


Glitter and Crimson

by novacorpsrecruit



Series: Spideytorch Villain AU [2]
Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, and crime, i guess, villain AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29963871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novacorpsrecruit/pseuds/novacorpsrecruit
Summary: Johnny tries not to dwell on the past. He tries not to think of what could have been. If only he did something different. If only he held on a little longer. If only he was a little stronger. Johnny’s flown by his apartment a handful of times since they broke up. Hoping to catch a glimpse of a shadow in the room, or a hopeful glance back at him. Some part of him always hoped that they would get back together. He remembered how sweet and gentle his touch was, how his laugh filled the room.But he also remembered how he looked with blood dripping down his hands. How terrifying and angry his dark, brown eyes were – and how quickly they changed as he looked back at Johnny, almost apologizing for killing a man. They weren’t meant to be together. Not in this life.But all that changed when Johnny’s world collapsed.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Johnny Storm
Series: Spideytorch Villain AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2202264
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Glitter and Crimson

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello! This takes place 5 years after [Surrounded by Wolves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16750621). It does not need to be read first, but it makes more sense if you do.
> 
> TW: Sexual assault within the first 2,000 words.

_Glitter and crimson, fighting the friction, what a perfect mess;  
I wonder if you feel kinda like I feel, temporary;  
Fixed on a moment just out of focus and we can't quite see  
Being us ain't good for us_

* * *

Johnny tries not to dwell on the past. He tries not to think of what could have been. If only he did something different. If only he held on a little longer. If only he was a little stronger.

But when he was alone, his mind wandered to the possibilities.

And he was alone way too much in the empty Baxter Building. A shell of what it used to be. A constant reminder that he could’ve done better. And the moments when he sees Ben in passing hurt almost more than being alone.

It’s been a year that Reed, Sue and the kids disappeared. An expedition gone wrong. It was Valeria’s first trip into another galaxy. The trip wasn’t supposed to last longer than a week. A birthday celebration turned into a science trip. Nothing out of the ordinary was supposed to happen – at least, of the Fantastic Four’s definition of ordinary.

45 minutes after their departure, the Baxter Building received a distress signal. For days after their scheduled return, Ben got after him for not being in the lab to catch the call quick enough, that Johnny could’ve helped them. Johnny fought back. He got there as quickly as he could.

After a long silent week, Ben spoke up. “Sumthin’ wasn’t right. We shouldn’t had let ‘em go in the first place.”

Now, Ben avoids the Baxter Building as much as he can, leaving Johnny there alone. Ben often found comfort in Alicia Masters and in her SoHo apartment.

Johnny was alone.

Well, not completely alone.

Over the past couple of years, Johnny’s grown close to Bobby Drake, but he could never invite himself over to the X-Mansion. Hell, if Bobby invited him over to stay the night to get out of the Baxter Building, Johnny would still say no. It wouldn’t feel right.

Johnny knows what he wants.

He’s just too afraid to say it out loud.

He’s too afraid of what Ben would say.

What Sue would think if she got back.

 _When_ _she got back_.

Johnny’s flown by his apartment a handful of times since they broke up. Hoping to catch a glimpse of a shadow in the room, or a hopeful glance back at him. Some part of him always hoped that they would get back together. He remembered how sweet and gentle his touch was, how his laugh filled the room.

But he also remembered how he looked, with Otto Octavius dead at his feet and his blood dripping down his hands. How terrifying and angry his dark, brown eyes were – and how quickly they changed as he looked back at Johnny, almost apologizing for killing a man.

They weren’t meant to be together.

Not in this life.

When Johnny first started to fly by his apartment, he swore that he would never approach him… unless he called Johnny’s name.

He used to call, letting it ring all the way to his voicemail, but Johnny never left a message. He wouldn’t return the call anyway. Eventually, the phone was disconnected. And Johnny started to distance himself.

But all that changed when Johnny’s world collapsed.

Six months after his family’s disappearance, he found himself in the hall, outside of the apartment door. Before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked at the door. He heard shuffling, a hushed voice before the door cracked open.

On the other side of the door was a beautiful woman, hair and makeup runway ready, but her oversized ESU sweatshirt said otherwise.

“Hi,” the woman said. “Can I help you?”

“Is, uh –“ Johnny wasn’t expecting anyone else to open the door. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he was expecting the door to be opened anyway. “Is Peter home?”

“Peter?” The woman asked, brushing her blonde hair out of her face. “No Peter here, are you sure you got the right place?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Johnny said, glancing over to the door’s number to confirm the address. “It’s been a while, a couple of years at least.”

“A couple?” The woman asked, leaning against the door frame. “I’ve lived here for a couple.”

“Five years,” Johnny said, the words felt like stone coming out of his mouth. “More like five.”

“Five years,” The woman said with a soft whistle. A soft thud hit a wall behind her. “Quite a long time for a drop by.”

“Yeah, I –“ Johnny hesitated. There was no reason for him to tell her anything else. He didn’t know her. She said she didn’t know a Peter. Why would he continue? “I just needed to talk with him. Catch up.”

“Catch up,” She repeated, with a gentle smile. “How sweet. What does he look like? You got a photo?” Another soft thud hit the wall behind her. “Y’know, in case I ever see him around?”

“About 6’1, permanent bedhead, brown hair, brown eyes,” Johnny said, almost picturing Peter there now. “Faint freckles, lean muscular. Got an attitude or two.”

“Sounds like trouble,” She smirked. Something crashed behind her. “Sorry, unruly tomcat that’s one more broken glass away from roughin’ it out in the streets. If I see this Pete of yours, I’ll let him know that …“ She gestured towards Johnny.

“Johnny,” he said. “Johnny Storm.”

“I thought so,” she winked. “I’ll let him know that the Human Torch swung by.”

Johnny nodded and left. He should’ve known better. If the Spider-Man wanted nothing to do with Johnny, why would he still live in the same apartment as he did years ago when he brought Johnny home.

He thought about going back – about asking the neighbors if they knew the Bugle reporter that lived down the hall. But he let all thoughts of him disappear. If Peter wanted to be found, he would find his way to Johnny.

But it still didn’t make anything hurt any less.

Johnny would patrol the city to help distract his mind and, eventually, joined the Avengers. They weren’t his family. They couldn’t replace his family. But they helped make him feel less alone. Keep his mind busy. Johnny did his best to find distractions. Usually, that meant getting out of the house and creating his own distractions.

Johnny threw on a loud floral button up and black fitted jeans. He ran his fingers through his hair, quickly styling it before heading out of his room. He stopped when he entered the living room. It wasn’t the same anymore now that he was alone. The family room used to be loud and busy. Sue calling from the kitchen to check on Franklin and Valeria, reminding them that any experiments belong in the lab. Ben would mumble something about how he couldn’t hear the TV, or how he’d always find a way to trip over a child, but Johnny knew he wouldn’t trade the world for it. Hell, Ben would trade the world to have it back.

Johnny would too.

He sighed and grabbed his keys off the table and head out.

Sometimes, he thought about renting an apartment. Just to have a reason to be away from the Baxter Building. But he’s not sure what’s worse – being alone in the Baxter Building where his family once was, or being alone in a new place far from any connection to his family.

He took out his phone and texted Bobby.

_JS: Wanna go out?_

_BD: Ive told u if youre gunna ask me out at least call_

_BD: Where to?_

_JS: A bite and a drink_

_JS: or two_

_BD: Pick a bar and I’ll meet you there_

Johnny picked a small bar in Chelsea to start. Burgers, fries, and alcohol. That was the current plan. But their plans usually fall apart halfway through, the night and they end up on the other side of New York on a rooftop lounge with shots in hand. Sometimes, Johnny would disappear after finding someone, or the shadow of someone. Bobby could count the number of times that Johnny had to apologize because he thought he saw someone he knew. Bobby knew of Johnny’s ex boyfriend that he was still hung up on, but didn’t know the extent of it. He’s only heard of him in passing.

“If he even thinks of swinging by,” Ben would say. “I’ll knock ‘em dead.”

And Bobby is well aware of Johnny’s current boy problem.

A familiar face at the bar caught Johnny’s eyes. Even from across the room, Johnny could feel him eyeing him up. His dark smirk meant nothing but trouble. The quick lick of his lips, before taking a sip of his whiskey was all of a signal Johnny needed. They’ve played this game before. All of his pieces are lined up, ready for Johnny to make his move.

“Johnny.”

“Yeah?” Johnny jerked his attention back to Bobby, clearly not impressed with Johnny’s gaze.

“Don’t make this mistake again,” Bobby half begged. “You know he’s no good.”

“It’s not a mistake if I’m doing it on purpose,” Johnny said, standing up and pushing his chair in. “I’ll be fine. No strings attached. Promise.”

“Johnny,” Bobby said, sternly. “I’ve been here before. I’ve been _there_ before. Don’t get yourself in more trouble than you need. You don’t need him.”

“I don’t need him,” Johnny repeated. “I swear. This is a one night thing —“

“You said that last time.”

“It’s a semi reoccurring one time thing,” Johnny said. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

Johnny could hear Bobby sigh as he walked away. Bobby was right. He was nothing but trouble, but maybe trouble is what Johnny needs.

“What’s your plans for tonight, Daken?” Johnny asked, pulling up a chair at the bar next to him.

Daken smirked, passing the artificially colored martini to Johnny. His pieces were aligned.

“I had plans, you see,” Daken said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “They included a few drinks, maybe playing pool, flirting with a few strangers, until I found someone who suits me for the night. But it seems my plans have changed.”

“Have they?” Johnny raised an eyebrow. He picked up the fruit sewer from his drink and ate the cherry. “Do they include me?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” His voice, low and deep, sent shivers down Johnny’s spine. He tapped at the base of Johnny’s glass. Johnny took a drink from his martini. “You missed me already?”

Johnny hummed, taking another sip of his drink. Daken smirked, pressing a hand on Johnny’s thigh, leaning forward.

“Are you missing the way I treat you in bed?” Daken whispered, hot against Johnny’s ear. “The way I touch you until you moan,” he squeezed Johnny’s thigh. “The way I fuck you until you’re screaming my name?”

Johnny turned his head, catching Daken’s lips with his own. Daken chuckled through the kiss, he ran his thumb over Johnny’s cheek as he dragged his fingertips to the nape of Johnny’s neck, amused nonetheless. He knew how to win over Johnny, and Johnny didn’t care. He needed to feel wanted. He needed to feel cared about. Even if Daken’s kisses were superficial, if Johnny was just another person to fuck. It was enough for him.

Daken pulled away. He looked Johnny up and down like a prize he just won. He smirked, turning away to pay the bartender for their drinks. 

“Let’s go,” Daken demanded, taking the last swig of whiskey before standing up and grabbing Johnny. “Tell your little friend goodbye.”

Johnny half-heartedly waved to Bobby as Daken led him out of the bar, into the alleyway.

Daken shoved Johnny up against the brick wall, kissing Johnny. He slipped his hand underneath Johnny’s shirt. His lips moved from Johnny’s lips to his neck, nipping lightly.

“You are so hot,” Daken murmured. Johnny tangled his fingers in Daken’s hair, closing his eyes and basking in the attention. “Gorgeous.” He pressed another kiss against Johnny’s neck. “You’re worth it,” he pressed a hot, breathy kiss against Johnny’s ear. “Every broken rib, worth it.”

“What?” Johnny moved his hand to Daken’s chest and pushed. “Broken rib?”

“From your ex,” Daken said, leaning in to steal a kiss. “The one with anger issues.”

Johnny pushed harder against Daken’s chest. “I’m sorry?”

“All is forgiven,” Daken smirked. “Like I said, you’re worth it.”

Johnny hesitated. Was it really him? “The Spider-Man?”

“It took me a while to come to that conclusion,” Daken said, dragging his thumb across Johnny’s cheekbone. “By the third time, I realized his attacks weren’t random. The fourth is when I found out that the common factor was you.”

“He attacked you?”

“Tell me, Johnny,” Daken dragged his thumb against Johnny’s lips. “Who’s better? Me or _him_?”

“Daken, I —“ If the Spider-Man attacked Daken after every time they hooked up … than Peter is watching Johnny. And he’s jealous. Johnny pushed Daken, and stepped away. He had to find Peter. Somehow. “I gotta go.”

Daken grabbed Johnny and slammed him back against the wall. Johnny let out a gasp as Daken grabbed his chin and tilted him up. “What’s the rush?” He pressed a kiss against Johnny’s lips. “We’re just getting started.”

Johnny pushed against Daken, unable to budge him. “Get off.”

“I bet he’s watching us,” Daken ran his hand underneath Johnny’s shirt, slowly up and down his rib cage. “Should we entertain him here?”

“Stop,” Johnny warned, pushing Daken. “Or I’ll flame on.”

“I’m just playing,” Daken said, leaning most of the way off Johnny. “Toying with your ex in the shadows.”

“It’s not funny,” Johnny said, pushing past Daken. He ran his fingers through his hair.

Daken wrapped his arms around Johnny’s waist. “But could you imagine,” He pressed his lips against Johnny’s ear. His fingers played dangerously with Johnny’s waistband. “Us, here in the alleyway fucking, with the Spider-Man watching us above.”

His hand slipped into Johnny’s pants.

Johnny turned around and shoved Daken off.

Daken gasped as he flew backwards into the shadows of the alleyway, much farther than Johnny could ever shove. Metal clanged in the distance as Johnny assumed Daken hit something.

No way Johnny did that.

“Daken?” Johnny called, lighting his palm on fire as a lantern. He stepped forward slowly, calling for Daken. A glimmer near the dumpster caught the light of Johnny’s flames. Daken was webbed to the dumpster with his mouth webbed shut. Johnny pressed his hand lightly against Daken’s chest, pulling some of the webbing away, playing with it in his fingers.

Peter.

He looked up, catching a glance of a shadow, leaping from the roof top.

Johnny took off, leaving Daken as someone else’s problem.

“Spider-Man!” He called, trying to keep up with the dark shadow. Weaving in and out of alleyways and between buildings. He’d follow, catching up, then lose him in a quick turn or altitude change.

Johnny knew this game too well, he had a bad habit of following shadows throughout New York City. He’s done this over the years, and more frequently in this past year. Sometimes, he was mostly truthful to Bobby and swore that he saw the Spider-Man and needed to keep New York safe. But there’s only so many times he can say that before Bobby stars to wonder why Johnny cares so much about the Spider-Man. Never has Johnny ever caught up with him – or even caught up enough to prove that it was him.

But nonetheless, Johnny still flew after him.

Eventually, he followed the shadow from Chelsea, through Hudson Yards to Hell’s Kitchen, then back through Midtown, eventually losing sight of the shadow in Gramercy Park. Frustrated and tired, he gave up. He began to question if he even saw the Spider-Man, or if he was following a ghost of his past.

He flew back home and entered through his unlocked window.

Johnny sighed, collapsing in his bed. He should’ve known better. All these times he’s been left in the dust, why now? Why would that all change now? The last time he saw Peter, he clearly meant that they weren’t meant to be together.

His phone buzzed. 

He pulled it out of his pocket and brought it up to his face, expecting to see Bobby’s face and having to explain the night he had, but he was met with UNKNOWN. He hesitated, usually blocking these calls, but tonight has been an unusual night.

“Hello?”

“I kind of missed that,” the voice said, low and deep. “Being chased by you.”

Johnny sat up. “Peter?”

“So you remember me,” Peter laughed. God. Johnny missed that laugh. “I mean, I knew. With the phone calls, and you swinging by.”

“You knew,” Johnny said. “About me swinging by?”

“I’ve always known. I’ve got friends in places,” Peter said. “And I’ve told you before, I’m kind of the jealous type.”

Johnny nodded, as if Peter could see him. “Daken said that he got a couple of broken ribs from you.”

“A couple?” Peter laughed. “Johnny, I – I don’t want us to start off on the wrong foot again, but that’s a severe understatement.”

“How severe?”

Johnny could hear Peter hesitate. “Well, I found out the hard way you can’t kill him,” Peter laughed softly. “You know how to pick ‘em, don’t you. Is bad boys your type?”

“When can I see you,” Johnny said, ignoring the question. “I miss you – I miss _us_.”

Peter’s laugh quickly died off, leaving the phone line silent. Johnny could imagine Peter’s jaw tightening with unease, as he tried to think of the right thing to say – which isn’t often the first thing Peter does. Even though the silence was deafening, Johnny almost took that as a good thing. That he was considering it.

“I’ll talk to you later, Pretty Boy,” Peter said, hanging up the phone.

“Peter –“

Dial tone echoed back to Johnny.

Was Peter worried about inviting Johnny back into his life? Was he afraid to trust Johnny again? Did he think that they weren’t able to build their relationship back?

Peter said that he would talk to him later. That’s a good thing, Johnny noted. But unfortunately, it was probably on Peter’s conditions. Johnny doesn’t have a way to contact him. Not anymore. His previous number was disconnected and he called from an unknown number. The apartment he used to live at is now rented by a blonde bombshell. But Peter knows that he’s swung around there. He said that he had “friends in places”, but last Johnny knew, it didn’t seem like he had any friends at all. A lot can change in five years, but Peter was very much a “I work alone” type of guy.

Was Peter watching him? 

Johnny needed help.

Johnny needed to leave Peter alone, pretend he never saw him.

Johnny needed to sleep it off and unpack everything tomorrow.

Except he can’t do that.

Johnny called Bobby – he wasn’t doing anything important.

Twenty minutes later, Bobby came over and brewed some coffee, ready to listen to the “tangled mess” Johnny warned him about over the phone.

“Okay,” Bobby said, handing a cup of coffee to Johnny, sitting down on the couch next to him. “Tell me about this guy.”

Johnny held the hot mug in his hands, trying to absorb the warmth. The cup of coffee was freshly brewed, but it felt room temperature to Johnny. Ever since the incident, the temperature extremes never felt the same. Everything felt muted. Snowflakes felt like rain. Steam felt like mist. Johnny’s flames were the only extremes he could feel.

That, and Peter.

He could feel his body heat, burning hotter than others. He felt overwhelmed with warmth when Peter held him. When he kissed him. When he loved him.

He felt the cold when Peter left him. When Peter disappeared from his life – taking his heat with him.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Maybe his name?” Bobby said, raising an eyebrow. “Or why Ben hates him?”

“Ben doesn’t _know_ him like I _know_ him,” Johnny said. He ran his thumb under the lip. “ _Kaine_. His name is Kaine.”

“Kaine,” Bobby repeated. “Doesn’t sound too good to start off with.”

“He’s sweet and kind and funny,” Johnny said. “He’s bought me flowers. Orange roses. They were a little beat up, but he brought them from Chinatown.”

“Doesn’t sound like a reason for Ben to hate him,” Bobby said. “Did he make fun of Ben or something?”

“Ben actually hasn’t met him,” Johnny said. “Nobody did.”

“Why?”

“He’s … trouble,” Johnny said. “Like … _Daken_ trouble.”

“Johnny,” Bobby warned.

“But it’s different,” Johnny said. “He’s kind to me.”

“Until you don’t do what he wants,” Bobby said.

“He’s never hurt me,” Johnny lied. Peter’s mugged him. Peter’s webbed him up. But that was before they got to know each other. “He’s gentle with me. Even when he’s mad.”

“Temper?”

“Short,” Johnny said truthfully. “We had a fight before we broke up. There was a lot of yelling. And a broken vase. Sue caught the tail end of our fight. ”

“And there it is,” Bobby said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Why Ben hates him.”

“It was a misunderstanding,” Johnny said. “It’s hard to explain.”

“We got all night and two cups of coffee,” Bobby said. “And nobody to stop us from making more.”

Johnny hesitated. He had to figure out how to explain to Bobby how he accused Peter of murders that he didn’t do – without saying that exactly. He almost wished he didn’t invite Bobby over, but he needed someone to talk to. Someone to direct him what to do. He needed Sue.

Johnny sighed, taking a drink of his coffee.

“He’s a mugger,” Johnny said, desperately trying to find a way to describe the situation without mentioning supervillains. “A thief. _Small crimes_ , but he swears nobody’s gotten seriously hurt … But there were a series of bodega robberies that included someone getting shot. And at the same time, he gotten into a lot more money. He wouldn’t tell me how. Then someone was murdered during a robbery, and I accused him. We fought. And eventually he brought back … _paystubs_ to prove where he was getting the money from.”

Bobby ran his hand over his face, trying to rub the foolishness from Johnny off of him. “Okay,” He huffed. “We’re going to pretend we can look past the criminal background for a small moment. If you didn’t get back together after that moment, why should you get back together now?”

Johnny opened his mouth and stopped.

He thought of Peter on that night. Terrifying and gentle. His touch soft and heavy. His words, quiet but loud to Johnny’s ears. _‘Maybe in another life, we were meant to be.’_ Peter loved him. They wanted to make it work, but Peter couldn’t stop what he did. Johnny couldn’t pull away from his family to turn a blind eye to the terror the Spider-Man could be.

But Johnny lost the light of his life last year. Lost his reason to be good. Lost his reason to live.

But the thought of seeing Peter, brought the warmth back to him.

Daken saying that the Spider-Man beat him up out of jealousy broke the dam.

Hearing his voice tonight brought a wave of emotions over Johnny that he couldn’t explain.

Johnny didn’t care if Peter was a murderer. He didn’t care if Peter never tried to be good again. He didn’t care if he was the most frightening man in New York City.

If Peter still loved him like he used to, Johnny would do anything to have Peter back.

“He loved me,” Johnny said. “He’s protective. He saved me a couple of times. He’s fought _Daken_ for me. When I’m with him, I just feel whole. He’s just – the _one_ , Bobby. I know if we tried again, we could make it work.”

“Johnny, I – He’s fought Daken?”

Johnny nodded.

“Oh my god,” Bobby rubbed his eyes, sighing. “He’s super powered isn’t he?”

Johnny froze.

“Oh god, he is,” Bobby groaned. “There’s no way in hell that someone normal would stand up to Daken and live. Who is it?”

Johnny regretted everything. He knew once Bobby figured out it was the Spider-Man, he would shut everything down. Everyone knew how bad the Spider-Man was. Everyone but Johnny. Johnny knew the good in him.

“If he’s putting up a fight with Daken, he’s got to have super human strength,” Bobby said. “And can take a hit. Does he have something else, or just super strength?”

“Can we not guess my ex boyfriend?” Johnny sighed, running fingers through his hair. “I just want help getting back together with him.”

“No wonder Ben doesn’t want you with him,” Bobby said. “Does he know who it is?”

“I think he has his guesses,” Johnny said. “I know Sue knows. But I don’t know if she told him.”

“What would … ” Bobby hesitated, unsure if he wanted to finish his sentence. “What would she say, if she was here right now?”

Johnny stopped. Sue never liked the idea of Johnny chasing the Spider-Man. She never wanted him to approach him alone. The Spider-Man was dangerous. She didn’t want Johnny to end up hurt or dead. When they broke up, she told him she thought he did the right thing. That Peter was toxic and could ruin his life.

But she wasn’t here.

“I don’t think she would like a lot of the choices I’ve made this year,” Johnny said, getting up from the couch. “But until my family gets back together, I think I’m going to do what makes me happy.”

“Johnny –“ Bobby got up.

“I’m going to shower,” Johnny said, stepping away. “You’re welcome to stay the night, but I’m done talking about this. I’ve made up my mind.”

“And what if he made up his?” Bobby said, calling after Johnny as he walked down the hall to his room. “What if he decides that you aren’t his priority anymore? That you were just a play thing for him?”

“What do I have to lose?” Johnny asked. “Ben already refuses to talk to me. My sister and brother-in-law are lost in space with my niece and nephew. Nothing is the same anymore.”

“I’m here for you Johnny,” Bobby said sincerely. “You know that.”

“Then trust me,” Johnny said. “I will be okay.”

“I trust you,” Bobby said. “I just don’t know if I trust him.”

“I trust him,” Johnny said. “That’s all that matters. I will see you tomorrow.”

Johnny shut his door. He pressed his back up against it, sighing and running his fingers through his hair. He slid down the door frustrated. He hated how people judged before even meeting Peter. Not that he would have them meet him anyway. He rubbed the frustration off his face and his fingers through his hair. He needed to shower. Get refreshed and get some sleep. He hardly wanted to move. He was about to get up when something on his dresser caught his eye.

“You’re kidding me,” he muttered to himself before rushing to get up and over to the dresser.

In a glass vase, there was a bouquet of sunflowers, waiting for his return.

“I missed you, Pete,” Johnny smiled, caressing the petals. He picked up the handwritten note -- clearly taken from Johnny’s stationary.

_Thanks for leaving the window open for me._

Peter didn’t need to sign it for Johnny to know who it was.

He wondered how long the flowers have been sitting here. How long Peter was in his room. If Peter heard him and Bobby talking, or if he dropped off the flowers and left. What would he have done if Johnny was still in the room? Would they have talked?

Johnny stepped to the window, pushing it open. He looked around, hoping to see the Spider-Man in the shadows. He was about to head back in, when an idea popped into his mind. He jumped from the window, flaming on and flew to the sky.

In flaming letters, he wrote “THANK U” against the dark night sky.

Johnny flew back into his room and flamed off. If Peter was anywhere in Manhattan, he was sure to see it. He was tempted to draw a spider next to it, but he knew what headlines that would entail. He stepped back to the flowers, running his thumb over a petal again.

Johnny knew how kind Peter could be. How sweet and how gentle he was. And that’s all that mattered to Johnny.

* * *

The Spider-Man brought his fist down Daken’s cheek.

“I thought that last time would’ve taught you to leave him alone,” he gritted. Daken tilted his head back, his mouth webbed shut, but his eyes loud. It was all a game to him.

Peter was watching in the bar. He sat in the back corner nursing a whiskey smash. He wasn’t much for drinking, but Johnny’s picked up a habit. Peter would follow Johnny and his friend to bars – just to keep an eye out. He never planned on approaching him. He just wanted to make sure he was safe. And for the most part: he was. His new friend -- Bobby Drake, he later learned – kept him in line. On an easy night, they stayed in the same bar, or they bar hopped. On a little more difficult night, it was hard to keep up with them. He’s only been caught a few times – but caught was also a loose term. Johnny’s thought he’s spotted him, and he did. But he never caught to him to catch him.

The worst nights were when he found this prick in the bar.

Peter knew next to nothing about Daken.

But he knew he didn’t like the way he looked at Johnny.

As soon as he spot Daken in the bar, he could feel anger build up inside of him. Peter wasn’t dating Johnny – they’ve broken up long ago. He shouldn’t be here. He should leave him alone.

But he kept watching. He watched Johnny leave Bobby to go to Daken. He watched as they flirted, as Daken put his hand on Johnny’s thigh, whispering into his ear. He couldn’t watch when Johnny kissed him.

Peter threw his drink back and left. He knew what was going to happen. He didn’t want to be here for that.

He went to the roof, and ran his hands through his hair. He needed a little _physical_ therapy to blow off his frustration. He needed to get out of here. As soon as he sees Daken, he’s going to rip him apart. And he can’t do that in front of Johnny. Not again.

He threw his hoodie off, revealing his spider suit underneath, and was working on getting his jeans off when he heard Johnny below.

“Get off!”

Peter threw his mask on and looked over the edge of the wall. Below was Johnny, pinned up against the wall by Daken.

“I bet he’s watching us,” Daken said to Johnny. “Should we entertain him here?”

“Stop,” Johnny warned. Peter stepped on the ledge, ready to jump off. “Or I’ll flame on.”

“I’m just playing,” Daken said _,_ almost in a bored tone _._ Johnny pushed past Daken. Peter relaxed. “Toying with your ex in the shadows.”

“It’s not funny.” Johnny ran his fingers through his hair. Daken slowly approached him from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist. Peter felt his stomach twist, watching Johnny lean back into him.

“But could you imagine,” Daken’s voice was low. He pressed his lips against Johnny’s ear, whispering. Peter couldn’t take it anymore. He watched as Daken shoved his hand down Johnny’s pants.

Peter’s vision went red.

He jumped. He shot a web to Daken and pulled him away from Johnny and into the darkness, slamming him against the dumpster. He webbed Daken to the dumpster, and shot webbing over his mouth.

“I thought we talked about this,” Peter said. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Him.”

“Daken?” Johnny called from the other side of the alleyway. A small flame appeared as Johnny started to walk their way.

“I’m not done with you,” Peter warned before ziplining back up to the roof. He collected his clothes and watched over the edge as he saw Johnny find Daken. He put his hand against Daken’s chest, and Peter tightened his jaw. Clearly, he cares about Daken. This may have been the wrong move.

Johnny pulled a piece of webbing off, rubbing it between his fingers. He instantly looked up, catching a glimpse of the Spider-Man.

Peter stepped back.

“Spider-Man!” Johnny called.

Peter took off.

He could hear the flames behind him and he knew he had to hurry. It wasn’t going to be long until Johnny caught up to him. And it would either go good for Peter – or completely bad.

So he tried to lose Johnny.

It took a while, but by the time he got to Gramercy Park, he found a way to drop to the ground and slip into his clothes.

He watched Johnny fly by, unaware of Peter below.

Once Johnny was long gone, Peter slipped back to the rooftops and made his way to the Baxter Building. It wasn’t hard to find Johnny’s bedroom – he remembered it well, but it being one of the only lights on in the building gave it away. Peter perched across the street, watching as Johnny collapsed in the bed, giving up for the night.

Peter hesitated, knowing he should leave.

He pulled out his phone and called Johnny.

He watched as Johnny fumbled with his phone, before putting it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“I kind of missed that,” Peter said, his voice low as if he was trying not to wake anyone. “Being chased by you.”

Johnny sat up. “Peter?”

“So you remember me,” Peter laughed. “I mean, I knew. With the phone calls, and you swinging by.”

“You knew,” Johnny said. “About me swinging by?”

Peter knew.

Peter was there.

The one time Johnny followed through, Peter just got back from a night out from a business endeavor with his partner in crime.

“Will you answer the door?” Peter said, throwing an old ESU sweater at her. “My ex has been swinging by and I’ve been trying to make it look like I’ve moved.”

“So why don’t you?” She said, throwing the sweatshirt on. She tossed her mask at Peter and fluffed up her hair.

“I kind of like it here,” Peter said, moving out of sight. Felicia took off her boots and threw it towards him. Peter caught them, setting them on the ground. Her outfit was somewhat believable – her heist outfit disguised with the sweater just looks like workout leggings. It was the makeup and perfect hair that felt off. But it’s more believable than anything Peter would’ve whipped up.

“It’s a shitty apartment,” She said. “You can afford better.”

She opened the door and put on a fake, soft voice.

Peter knew who it was even before they spoke.

“Is Peter home?”

“Peter?” Felicia asked. Peter knew that he was in for a long discussion after Johnny leaves. “No Peter here, are you sure you got the right place?”

“It’s been a while, a couple of years at least.” Peter wished Johnny would leave. Peter wished Felicia _would get him_ to leave.

“A couple?” Felicia asked, leaning against the door frame. Now she’s just fishing for information. “I’ve lived here for a couple.”

“More like five.”

“Five years,” Felicia said with a soft whistle. Peter threw a pillow in her direction. “Quite a long time for a drop by.”

“ _Stop it_ ,” Peter whispered.

“Yeah, I – I just needed to talk with him,” Johnny said. “Catch up.”

“Catch up,” Felicia repeated for Peter to hear, as if he couldn’t already. “How sweet. What does he look like? You got a photo?” Peter threw another pillow in her direction. “Y’know, in case I ever see him around?”

“ _Stop_.” Peter hushed.

“About 6’1, permanent bedhead, brown hair, brown eyes, faint freckles, lean muscular,” Johnny listed off. “Got an attitude or two.”

“Sounds like trouble,” Felicia smirked. Peter threw another pillow, missing the wall and knocking a vase off the table. “Sorry, unruly _tomcat_ that’s one more broken glass away from roughin’ it out in the streets.” She turned to glare at Peter. “If I see this _Pete_ of yours, I’ll let him know that …“ She turned her attention back towards Johnny, gesturing for his name.

“Johnny,” he said. “Johnny Storm.”

“I thought so,” she winked. “I’ll let him know that the Human Torch swung by.”

“Thanks,” Johnny said, leaving. She shut the door behind him.

“ _He’s_ your ex?” Felicia whispered, throwing her thumb in Johnny’s direction. “The flaming boy scout?”

“Shut up,” Peter said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“He’s cute,” Felicia said. “Why don’t you want him to find you?”

“I do,” Peter admitted. “But he _can’t_.”

“I hate you, you know that?” Felicia groaned. “You make absolutely no sense. Pass me my cut before I have to ask more about this ex of yours.”

“Gladly.”

Peter really needed to move.

The rent in his apartment was a crime in itself. The building was falling apart. But this was the place where Johnny knew he lived. And if Johnny would still swing by, then this is where Peter was staying. But after Johnny spoke with Felicia, he never returned. Peter told himself that he could move. That nothing was keeping him tied to the apartment now, but he had a hard time talking himself out of the possibility of Johnny swinging by another time.

“I’ve always known,” Peter said to Johnny. “I’ve got friends in places. And I’ve told you before, I’m kind of the jealous type.”

Johnny nodded. “Daken said that he got a couple of broken ribs from you.”

“A couple?” Peter laughed. “Johnny, I – I don’t want us to start off on the wrong foot again, but that’s a severe understatement.”

“How severe?”

Peter hesitated _._ He wanted Johnny back in his life, but he didn’t deserve to have him at all. “Well, I found out the hard way you can’t kill him,” Peter laughed softly. He remembered leaving Daken in a bloodied mess in an alleyway, expecting to hear news of it. He wasn’t expecting to see Daken a few weeks later, finding his way to Johnny again. “You know how to pick ‘em, don’t you. Is bad boys your type?”

“When can I see you,” Johnny said, throwing Peter off. “I miss you – I miss us.”

Peter’s laugh quickly died off, leaving the phone line silent. Peter felt the words on his tongue. ‘I miss you too’ and ‘Say the word, and I’ll be there.’ But he couldn’t. Not after what he’s done. Johnny was too kind, too pure, _too good_ for Peter. And as much as Peter wanted him too, he couldn’t. Johnny was better off without him.

“I’ll talk to you later, Pretty Boy,” Peter said, hanging up the phone. He swung away to his unfinished business in Chelsea, stuck to the dumpster right where he left him. He’s handled Daken a few times before. The first time, he left Daken a bloodied mess. There was no way Daken would’ve walked out of there alive. But the next time he saw Daken flirting with Johnny, Peter was embarrassed with himself, leaving a body without checking it was dead. After the third time murdering Daken, Peter realized he was dealing with a mutant – later learning that he was Wolverine’s son. They may be labeled as unkillable, but Peter will find a way.

“One day you might learn,” Peter said as he dropped down in front of Daken.

He brought his fist down Daken’s cheek.

“We just got to get it through your thick skull.”

Peter punched Daken again.

“I thought that last time would’ve taught you to leave him alone,” he gritted. Daken tilted his head back, his mouth webbed shut, his eyes grinning. Johnny didn’t have to sleep with Daken for him to win the game. He’s got the satisfaction.

He wanted the Spider-Man to catch them.

He wanted the Spider-Man to get involved. Daken couldn’t die, so why would he be concerned when the Spider-Man showed up. Who else could trick the Spider-Man into showing up at a dump of a dive bar?

Who else could manipulate him so easily?

The Spider-Man was a prize to win, and Daken clearly knows how to play the game.

“I will find a way to kill you, just so you know,” Peter said, stepping back from Daken. Johnny was too good for Peter. Too good to be messing with _this_ knock off Wolverine. But Johnny can handle himself. He’s proven this to Peter before. And if Johnny wanted to flirt with trouble, Peter would rather it be with him. And Peter would gladly accept that.

Peter wanted to be with Johnny. But he knew he doesn’t deserve him. He’s done too much that Johnny would disapprove of. Peter never worried about a guilty conscious, until he met Johnny. He wasn’t going to stop, but Johnny sure makes stopping seem like an option.

Maybe all he needed to do was remind Johnny that he was an option. Johnny didn’t need to commit crimes or be okay with violence, he just needed to tolerate it. If Johnny could turn a blind eye, then they could be together again. It may be hard to pull him from the comfort of the Fantastic Four, but maybe he just needed to tug and test the rope.

Maybe a quick little stop by a flower cart is all Peter needed for now.

“I’ve got somewhere to be, or we could play a little more,” Peter walked away, stopping about 15 feet from Daken. He jumped up, grabbing the fire escape ladder pulling down quick and hard until the bottom rung snapped off. Peter inspected it as he walked back towards Daken. “But you touch him again, and we’ll see what happens when I cut out your intestines.”

Peter shoved the metal rung into Daken’s gut, twisting as he goes in. Daken gritted in pain, holding back to not give into Peter’s amusement.

“I’ll use something dull, too,” Peter warned, pushing it in further. “Until then, you might look into a tetanus shot, that fire escape looked pretty rusty.”

Daken jolted forward, stuck against the dumpster.

“Don’t fucking touch him again,” Peter warned. He punched Daken’s face. “I’ll tear you apart every day if I have to.”

* * *

Johnny hated Avengers business meetings.

They were long and boring and never had anything to actually do with Johnny.

Well, they did. Johnny didn’t care enough to pay attention.

He was in a private lab out in Seaport, learning about a metal that Tony Stark wanted to build small jets out of for the Avengers. He wanted Johnny there to test its durability against high heat and for his opinion of whether or not it would be worth pursuing. Unfortunately for Johnny, his background at the Fantastic Four meant that he was always the second opinion for lab results and mechanical issues at the Avengers Tower and third opinion regarding aviation, after Carol Danvers whose opinion ranks higher than his on most issues.

Johnny just didn’t understand why Tony would want to torture Johnny with meetings too.

He sat in the long business meeting talking about analytics and endless numbers, comparing the cost and longevity of the metal to aluminum and titanium. Johnny would rather see the product in person rather than hear the numbers regarding it. He learned better by doing.

The scientists lead the three Avengers out of their meeting room and into a lab on the same floor.

“Mr. Stark, Ms. Danvers, Mr. Storm, we’d like to introduce you to the lead scientist in reverbium production,” Horizon’s CEO, Max Modell, said, leading Johnny further into the lab to a man working on. The scientist looked up from his project wide eyed, almost if he wasn’t expecting the Avengers.

No.

He wasn’t expecting Johnny.

“This is Peter Parker.”

Peter took a quick, deep breath and took off his work gloves. Johnny watched, staring. “Nice to meet you all. You can call me Peter.”

“Peter, would you tell them about the production of reverbium with a timeline of creating a metric ton of material,” Modell asked.

Peter began explaining. It went in one ear and out the other. Johnny couldn’t focus on anything but Peter. He watched his mouth move. He watched as his eyes gleamed with excitement to talk about the project he was working on. He watched the moments where Peter locked eyes with him, stopping talking for a quick second, then picking up as if he didn’t notice Johnny.

Peter looked good. He looked exactly like he did five years ago when Johnny last saw him. As if he didn’t age since then. Johnny’s eyes darted to Peter’s name badge, thinking of the similar one he wore at Oscorp with the Sinister Five, with the name of some other researcher who didn’t know Peter’s intents. Johnny wondered what happened with Peter at the Daily Bugle. He often would pick up a copy at the newsstand, looking for Peter’s name attached to a photo, but never finding it.

It was almost as if Peter wiped himself from New York City – but only where Johnny was looking for him.

Johnny never would’ve looked at Horizon Labs for him.

Hell, Johnny didn’t know it existed until today.

“Thank you, Peter,” Modell said, bringing Johnny’s attention back to him. “We appreciate your time. You are welcome to join us for the test runs we have planned for this afternoon. Mr. Storm is going to see if the reverbium can withstand his heat.”

“Sounds like a show,” Peter said, his eyes glued to Johnny. “I’ll have to see if I have a few minutes to spare.”

“We will break for lunch then,” Modell said. “See you all back here at 2pm.”

Tony Stark and Carol Danvers followed Modell to the end of the lab. Johnny followed behind, quickly stopped by a wall of a human.

“I didn’t know you were an Avenger,” Peter said. “When did that happen?”

“This year,” Johnny said. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“It’s been a relatively new thing,” Peter said. “Two years, maybe.”

“Thank you for the flowers,” Johnny said. “They’re gorgeous.”

“You better go and catch up with your boy scouts,” Peter said. “I bet they have something great planned in the caf for you, versus the regular slop they try pass as food.”

Johnny bit his tongue and nodded, he stepped away to follow Tony and Carol before stopping and turning around.

“We should go out tonight,” Johnny said. “Like old times.”

“I don’t know, Johnny,” Peter said. “Maybe another night.” He stepped forward, closing the gap between Johnny and him. He pressed his hand against Johnny’s stomach. His voice dropped low, as if he was keeping Johnny a secret from the lab. “What I do know, is I like this little black and yellow ensemble you got going. You ever decide switch teams, and become a bad guy, I think you found the perfect outfit.”

Peter dragged his touch away slowly and walked away back to his office. Johnny rocked in his spot, trying to figure out if he wanted to follow Peter or if he needed to go find Carol and Tony before they got too far.

“Torch!” Stark called from the end of the lab. “You coming?”

“Yeah, coming,” Johnny said, turning around to follow the rest of his team.

* * *

Johnny took a night out with Bobby to get his mind off of everything. Off the Avengers and their projects, off of all the labs and tests ran this afternoon, off of Peter.

It’s not that he wanted to stop thinking about Peter. He just wanted to stop thinking about his rejection about going out. His _‘I don’t know, Johnny’_ stung and meant more than being unsure about going out. As if he wasn’t sure about going out _with Johnny_. Maybe he read the flowers wrong. Maybe Peter meant nothing by them.

He wanted to bring it up with Bobby. Ask him what he thought about it, what it all meant. But he didn’t. Instead, they ordered cheese fries and drinks.

With an almost empty plate, Johnny could feel the questions try to bubble back up. He stood up, pushing his bar stool away from the small high top, about to ask Bobby if they wanted to find a new bar when Bobby’s eyes moved from Johnny to someone behind him.

“Excuse me.”

Johnny turned around.

He recognized that voice anywhere. He just wasn’t expecting him to be here.

Peter never seemed like the club type. As long as Johnny knew Peter, he’s never been one for crowds. He’s never been one for partying or small talk. Johnny was kind of surprised he knew how to dress for the club. He was almost overdressed. Peter wore a black button up, almost a size too small, and dark washed jeans. His hair almost messed up to perfection. Johnny wanted to run his fingers through it.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Peter asked Johnny. He slowly ran his fingers down the back of Johnny’s arm. “How ‘bout it, Pretty Boy?”

“I – I’m here with a friend,” Johnny gestured behind him. Peter’s flirty demeanor dropped dead. Johnny noticed. “Bobby.” He ran his hand up and down Peter’s arm, squeezing gently before turning to introduce Bobby. “This is Bobby. Bobby, this is Peter. A friend of mine.”

As soon as Peter and Bobby’s eyes met, Peter’s kinder attitude returned.

“Nice to meet you,” Peter smiled, reaching over to shake Bobby’s hand. Johnny felt Peter’s other hand rest on the small of his back, keeping his balance as he leaned forward. When Peter straightened up, his hand stayed on him. “I’ve heard all about you.”

“Really?” Bobby said, raising an eyebrow. He looked at Johnny. “Because I haven’t heard about you.”

“He’s a friend,” Johnny said. “I met him through work – he works at Horizon Labs.”

“We hit it off pretty good in between meetings,” Peter added. “Took him a lot of convincing to go out for lunch with me. Let me get you both a drink, something sweet and …?”

“Pale Ale,” Bobby said. “Whatever’s on tap works.”

“Got it,” Peter said, slowly dragging his fingers on Johnny’s back before heading to the bar for the drinks.

Bobby watched as Peter went over to the bar and ordered their drinks. “He seems nice.”

“Y-yeah,” Johnny said, nodding gently. “He’s really sweet.”

“And smart, it sounds like,” Bobby said, turning his attention to Johnny. “You hitting that?”

“What?!” Johnny felt his face blush over. “Why are you like this?”

“Because you found a good one,” Bobby said. “First off, pet names – cute,” Bobby started counting with his fingers. “Secondly, he’s kind enough to buy _me_ a drink and he’s not trying to sleep with _me_ –“

“He’s _not_ trying to –“

“Third off,” Bobby continued. “He’s not an evil supervillain! He’s like, the golden package.”

“Are your expectations that low?” Johnny laughed. “Don’t be a supervillain. Be kind. Maybe use pet names.”

“He’s hot, too,” Bobby rolled his eyes. “I thought that was a given.”

“You’re a mess.”

“I like him better than your ex.”

“You haven’t even met my ex.” It took Johnny all of his strength not to smile at the irony of Bobby approval of Peter – but not his ex.

Bobby shrugged. “And way better than Daken.”

“The thing between me and Daken meant nothing,” Johnny said, a little harsher than he meant. “It was just … something to pass the time.”

“To fill the void, you mean,” Bobby said. “Just admit it, he was your sloppy seconds that you kept having another helping of.”

“I hate you,” Johnny said. “You know that?”

“If you hated me so much, you’d stop asking me to hang out with you,” Bobby said, drifting his attention to Peter, returning to the table with three drinks.

“Pale ale,” Peter said, handing the beer to Bobby. “Strawberry, mint and Pimm’s for you, Firefly,” He handed the drink to Johnny. “It had a cute name that I can’t bother to remember.”

“So Peter,” Bobby said, taking a drink of his beer. “What do you do at Horizon Labs?”

“I am one of the lead researchers in a secret project,” Peter winked, taking a drink of his whiskey highball. “We’re working on the development and production of a metal stronger than titanium. We’re working on the patent before we can discuss it in full terms. Johnny got to test it out this afternoon.”

Bobby shot Johnny a look as if he’s been hiding all evidence of Peter from him. “Oh really?”

“It was a heat test,” Johnny clarified. “Carol Danvers and Tony Stark were there, too.”

Bobby hummed and took a drink of his beer, as if he was amused with Johnny’s answer. All he needed to hear was Peter and Johnny spent time together, even if others were there.

A key change in the music caught Peter’s attention.

“Oh, I love this song,” Peter said, gesturing his thumb over his shoulder to point to the dance floor. He set his drink on the high table and put his hand in the hook of Johnny’s arm. “Bobby do you mind if I steal Johnny for a minute?”

“Be my guest,” Bobby smirked at Johnny. Johnny glared at him before being tugged by Peter to the dance floor. Not like he was upset by that. He would give up anything for a moment closer to Peter.

“Do you even know this song?” Johnny asked, once they were far enough from Bobby.

“No,” Peter smirked. “I just wanted to be polite before I yanked you away to talk.”

“Well, that was nice of you,” Johnny wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck. He missed being this close to Peter. He missed his touch. He missed being overwhelmed with his presence. He missed him all together.

“Well, I’m trying to impress him,” Peter said, placing his hands on Johnny’s hips, leading him to the beat of the music. “Is it working?”

“Actually, it kind of is,” Johnny said. “You’re being crazy nice. It’s kind of scary.”

“That’s scary?” Peter laughed. Johnny smiled, as Peter’s laugh felt as if that was the only thing he could hear in the club. Peter buried his face into the crook of Johnny’s neck, before turning his face to kiss his skin. “I think you forgot who you’re with.”

“I could never forget you.”

Peter lifted his head to face Johnny. He ran his thumb over Johnny’s cheekbone. “I never forgot you,” he said. “I thought of you every day and how I wished I could do it all over again.”

“Then let’s,” Johnny said. “We can put the past behind us and carry on.”

“You know why we can’t.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Johnny said. “I _want_ to make it work.”

“We talked about this plenty,” Peter’s brow furrowed. He didn’t want to repeat the heartbreaks from before. “You know I can’t be good.”

“Pete,” Johnny said. “I don’t care what happens. I’m not letting go. Not this time.”

Peter studied Johnny, his eyes going from feature to feature, trying to catch a sign of deception or distrust. “I’ve done worse,” Peter admitted, his voice low and quiet, almost as if he’s trying to scare off Johnny while he could. “Than _that night_.”

“Pete —“

“And the only thing I regret, is that I did it in front _of you_ ,” Peter said somberly. “If you didn’t stop me, _all_ of them would’ve been dead that night.”

Johnny hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of five villains dead because of him. But Peter meant well. He wanted to keep Johnny safe.

Something in Johnny felt as if he just didn’t care anymore.

“Well… maybe I am a good influence on you,” Johnny tried to joke. He moved a hand to cup Peter’s jaw. Peter turn his head to kiss his palm. “I don’t care about what you do. You’re good to me. And that’s all that matters.”

Peter hummed. He caught Johnny’s chin, tilting him up slightly. Peter leaned in catching his lips in a gentle kiss. “Maybe we should get out of here,” Peter mumbled against Johnny’s lips. “Will Bobby be upset if you ditch him?”

“He’s used to it,” Johnny said. “I think this time, he might even be proud.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “I’m hoping that the other times are just referring to the rejected X-Man.”

“Him,” Johnny said. “ _And_ my super-powered criminal ex-boyfriend.”

“ _What_.”

“I may have told him about you,” Johnny said. “But he doesn’t know that it’s you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Johnny,” Peter gave a breathy laugh.

“He likes _you_ , though,” Johnny said, trying to be helpful. “He approves of Peter.”

“But not of the Spider.”

“No,” Johnny said. “He doesn’t know _who_ my ex is. I told him his name is Kaine.”

“What kind of name is Kaine?”

“A last minute decision,” Johnny said. “Do you want to leave or what?”

“We’re talking about this when we get home,” Peter said, taking Johnny’s hand and pulling him off the dance floor and towards Bobby.

Johnny could only think about the word _home._

Peter squeezed his arm when they arrived back to the table, bringing Johnny back to earth.

“Hey Bobby, I think we’re going to head out,” Johnny picked his jean jacket off the chair and shrugged it on. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Bobby gave him a look that could only read ‘I told you so.’ “Keep him out of trouble, Peter,” Bobby said. “He tends to find it.”

“Will do,” Peter winked. Johnny shoved an elbow in his side. “Nice to meet you, Bobby.”

The train ride back to Peter’s apartment felt like a blur. All Johnny could focus on was the gentle touch of Peter’s hand on his knee, or Peter’s arm wrapped around him pulling him closer. Johnny missed the close moments with Peter. Waking up in his arms on a Saturday morning. Sharing cheap takeout in his living room floor, or late nights in Johnny’s room. All the good memories rang stronger than the bad ones. Than the ones of them fighting, arguing about accusations and misunderstandings. Of Peter leaving, telling Johnny to forget him. Of Otto Octavius’s dead body slumped on the ground, with Peter being the only thing that held his lifeless corpse up. The bitter last kiss before Peter left Johnny’s life for good. Or at least, until now. All Johnny wanted to do was hold on tight, and never let go.

Once they got to Canal Street, Peter pulled Johnny up and onto the platform.

“Remind me why we took the subway?” Johnny asked, taking a few extra steps to catch up with Peter’s pace.

“I couldn’t wear the suit under this,” Peter gestured to his outfit. “I was told that the suit lines would be obvious.”

“Who told you that?”

“My stylist,” Peter said plainly. “Plus, I was told if I didn’t button it all the way and rolled up the sleeves, I’d catch your attention quicker. Did it work?”

“You caught it all right,” Johnny said, bumping his hip against Peter’s. Peter smirked and took Johnny’s hand. He pulled him slightly, leading him down a side street. Johnny wrinkled his nose. “Are you taking me to where I think you’re taking me?”

“To my apartment,” Peter said. “I thought you already knew that.”

“No, I meant to _your_ apartment,” Johnny said. “Your _old_ apartment.”

“Just one apartment,” Peter said, pulling Johnny to a stop. “No other apartment.”

“You’re kidding,” Johnny said, looking up at the building. The same building that he came to months ago, and was told that Peter didn’t live there anymore. The same apartment where it took weeks for Peter to invite him over, let alone stay the night with him. “The exact same one?”

“Yes,” Peter said, holding the door for Johnny. “Are you going to come in and see that nothing’s changed, or are you going to stand outside all night?”

Johnny huffed, walking into the building. He took Peter’s hand and pulled him to the stairwell. He mumbled something about never catching Peter when he swung by. As soon as the stairwell’s door shut behind them, Peter took Johnny by the hips and pulled him in. “I told you I had friends in places,” Peter murmured before pulling Johnny in for a kiss. “But I also don’t have a lot of friends, so I have to do it myself.”

“I’m your friend,” Johnny softly said.

“You’re my ex,” Peter laughed, stepping back from Johnny. Johnny felt his gut twist. Peter took Johnny’s hand and pulled him up the stairs. “I don’t think that counts. C’mon, we got six floors to climb.”

“I thought you moved,” Johnny said. “There was a woman who lived here when I stopped by.”

“A coworker,” Peter said. “She was over for a project and I asked if she would help out.”

“You were there?” Johnny came to an abrupt stop. He tugged on Peter’s hand. “When I stopped by?”

“Yeah, come on,” Peter said, yanking Johnny up a step. “I wasn’t ready to talk and now I am. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“So why haven’t you moved?” Johnny asked, keeping up with Peter. “You made it seem like it so I would stop coming by.”

“You know how hard decent apartments come by?” Johnny regret asking, as Peter started ranting. “It’s actually got a separate bedroom that an entire bed can fit in. The sink, toilet _and_ shower are all together. The radiator works most of the time –”

“No counter space in the kitchen,” Johnny hummed.

“How often have you seen me cook? That counter space would’ve gone to waste. Plus –” Peter stopped and turned around to face Johnny. “I liked the view of you flying by to try to spot me.”

“I hate you, you know that?”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Peter said, turning back around to unlock the door to his apartment.

As soon as Peter crossed the threshold, he pulled Johnny in by his hips, slamming the door behind him. He pinned him against the door and caught the gasp leaving his lips with his own. Johnny missed being overwhelmed with Peter. His sudden and quick movement felt deceptive with his gentle grip on his hips. Peter could barely move his hands and Johnny would follow. Johnny wants nothing more than to be overtaken by Peter – but there was something that still sat with him wrong. Johnny, intoxicated with Peter’s touch, pulled away far enough from Peter’s kiss to mutter, “I thought I was your ex.”

“You are,” Peter said, pressing a kiss against Johnny’s neck. “But I thought we were going to talk about changing that.”

“So let’s talk,” Johnny said, extending his neck for Peter to kiss. “On the couch?” Johnny tangled his fingers in Peter’s hair as he nipped gently on Johnny’s skin. “Probably on opposite ends.”

“We can’t talk over sex?” Peter asked, giving a tight squeeze to Johnny’s hips. He could feel Johnny hesitate. The struggle between getting closure and clarification versus intimacy, with the fear of rejection to follow. Johnny settled on a compromise. Talking can be foreplay. He needed the clarification first. He couldn’t sleep with Peter then be forced out of his life for good.

“I want to be together,” Johnny said. “I want to make _us_ work.”

“And if I kill again?” Peter said, pressing one more kiss against Johnny’s neck before lifting his head up to meet Johnny’s eyes. He ran a thumb over Johnny’s cheek. “Would you still love me?”

“I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Peter crashed his lips against Johnny’s. He scooped him up and carried him to the bed, dropping him down gracefully in the mess of the unmade duvet.

“I love you too, Pretty Boy,” Peter said, gently outlining Johnny’s face with his thumb. “I’ve always loved you.”

“Show me,” Johnny said, reaching up to cusp Peter’s cheek. “ _Show me_.”

“Demanding,” Peter chuckled, working off his shirt. Johnny ran his hand over his bare chest before Peter worked on Johnny’s shirt. “You know I’m going to find a way to kill him,” Peter said, plainly as if this was a normal conversation. “Daken, I mean. You okay with that?”

Johnny didn’t like the idea of deaths linked to him. He may not have killed them, but the deaths would be at his fault. But Daken has cheated death so many times, even at the hands of Peter, so maybe he wouldn’t have to worry too hard. “I’m okay with whatever you do,” Johnny said. “As long as I get to be by your side.”

“And your little Boy Scouts?” Peter said, working on his belt. Johnny worked on shimmering out of his own pants. “Are they going to be okay with this – with _us_?”

“I’ll leave them,” Johnny said, a little too quickly. “You’re more important to me.”

“Good.” Peter leaned down to kiss Johnny. “And Bobby?”

“What about him? He’s my friend.”

“What’s he’s going to say once he finds out that the hot, kind scientist is a super villain?” Peter asked. “Is he going to talk you out of this?”

“He’s just going to have to deal with it,” Johnny said. “I’ve made worse decisions.”

“Than me?” Peter laughed. “What about your sister? What she’s going to say?”

“She’s – she’s gone,” Johnny said. “She and Reed and the kids – they’re gone.”

“Gone?” Peter asked.

“They disappeared,” Johnny said. “In space. We haven’t seen them in a year.”

“So … when they _return_ ,” Peter said, cautiously. “Are you leaving me?”

“They’re my family,” Johnny said. “But you’re going to stay in my life. And I’m going to fight for that.”

“I appreciate that, Firefly,” Peter said softly. “But I don’t think that’s going to be as easy as you think. They’re never going to approve of me.”

“They don’t have to,” Johnny said. “You’re mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Peter hummed in approval against Johnny’s skin. “Are you going to keep that little yellow and black number?”

“I don’t – I don’t want to commit crimes,” Johnny said, remembering their previous conversation regarding his new hero uniform. “ _I_ don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to,” Peter said, pressing a kiss against Johnny’s jawline. “As long as you realize the same goes for me.”

“You don’t have to be good,” Johnny said. “I’m long over that.”

“Being good?”

“Trying to be something that I’m not,” Johnny said. Peter leaned up, looking Johnny in the eyes. He ran his thumb over Johnny’s cheek. “Trying to be without you.”

“You don’t have to,” Peter said, leaning down for a gentle kiss. “Not anymore.”

Johnny tangled his fingers in Peter’s hair, keeping him close. Peter nipped at Johnny’s lips, asking for them to be split apart to deepen their kiss. Johnny obeyed, opening his lips to take in Peter. Johnny ran his hand down Peter’s arm, squeezing his bicep. He missed this. He missed being lost in the essence of Peter. Being overwhelmed by his attention and touch. Peter moved his lips, pressing kisses along Johnny’s jaw, creating a trail down his neck. “I see you got a new bed,” Johnny said, tilting his head back to give Peter more room for kisses. “Tired of your old one?”

“My ex complained about the mattress,” Peter said, running his hand up and down Johnny’s bare thigh. He pressed a kiss against Johnny’s collarbone. “I thought I’d get it for when I got back together with him.”

“How’s that working out for you?” Johnny asked.

Peter hummed as he continued his trail of kisses down Johnny’s chest and to his stomach. “I think pretty good. What do you think?”

“I think –“ Johnny moaned as Peter bit at his hip. Johnny tightened his grip on Peter’s hair as Peter sucked on his skin. “Amazing. Really, really amazing.”

“I thought so,” Peter said, pressing a gentle kiss against his hickey, almost proud of his work. “I missed you, Pretty Boy.”

“I missed you, too,” Johnny murmured, his voice lost in pleasure as Peter took his cock in his mouth. Johnny kept his fingers tangled in Peter’s hair as he went down on him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good — this overwhelmed with pleasure. Daken was always a distraction. Someone to numb the pain. Peter was everything but that. Johnny wasn’t a quick fuck to Peter. Peter went slow. Peter focused on Johnny.

Peter felt like love.

Every kiss. Every touch. Each and every little reminder told Johnny that if he didn’t want to lose Peter again, he was going to have to make some sacrifices. That he was going to have to fight to keep him. And Johnny was willing to do whatever he needed to do to make sure he didn’t have to go another day without Peter.

* * *

Felicia sat on the couch, their sprawl of their plans laid out on the small coffee table in Peter’s apartment. Manila folders with stolen documents, newspaper clippings, and photographs — information that they have collected over the past few months all collected in one spot. Peter and Felicia have been working together for the past two years, usually smaller one spot jobs. But recently, they’ve uncovered something big. And the more the dug into it, the more they realized that if they intervened that they could be leaving with millions of dollars. Each. If they wanted it, they only had one chance. They couldn’t be sloppy. They met at least once a week, usually with a late supper, and discussed what they had discovered and what their plans were.

Felicia had brought over sushi from Lennox Hill for their meeting. The last time she trusted Peter for dinner, he forgot then ran to the bodega and grabbed and grabbed a couple of sandwiches and coffee. Felicia wouldn’t let him forget it.

Peter hummed as walked through the apartment. He set a glass of water in front of Felicia and picked up one of the folders. He flipped through the documentation, catching up on the intel that Felicia had collected.

Felicia watched him, something seemed off. Nothing bad, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Usually, he’d get after her by now for sitting with her boots on the couch, or for hogging the wasabi. He never brought her water to the heist table, he’d always roll his eyes and say that he wasn’t a waiter and that she knew where the glasses were… so what’s different?

“You seem in a good mood,” Felicia teased. “What’s that about?”

“What do you mean?” Peter said. “I’m always in a good mood.”

“And telling jokes now?” Felicia raised her eyebrow. “Is the world ending? Are you breaking up with me?” When it clicked, she gasped. “You got laid!”

“What?” Peter looked up from his folder. “What are you talking about?”

“You know _exactly_ what I’m talking about,” Felicia said with a smile. She propped herself up on her elbows, leaning in curiously. “Who is it? C’mon you know I won’t tell.”

“You need to find a new subject to talk about,” Peter grumped, setting the Manila folder on the coffee table. “Like our plan.”

“ _Your_ plan,” Felicia huffed, leaning back into the couch and crossing her arms. “ _My_ plan included a little detour.”

“We are not robbing the Met tonight,” Peter wrinkled his brow. “I don’t care if it’s on our way, we need to stick to our plan.”

“ _Your_ plan,” Felicia corrected. “No wonder the Human Torch broke up with you—“ Something in Peter’s body language tipped her off. Whatever he did for that half second — freeze, tightened his jaw, looked like a deer in headlights — told her everything she needed to know. She shot forward. “You slept with him!”

“Cat-“

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Fel--“

“Tell me you _didn’t_ sleep with Johnny Storm?”

“Stop--“

“Is this your guys’ first time?” Felicia smirked. “Is he good in bed? Can I try him on for size?”

“You leave him out of this,” Peter said, lowering his tone. “I’m warning you.”

“Oh, the scary _Spider_ voice,” Felicia teased gently. She’d be lying if she said that it didn’t actually scare her. She tried her best not to act like he didn’t intimidate her on a daily basis, and for the most part, she succeeded. He made it easy on some days, he seemed normal and completely unintimidating. But there were some days where the Spider-Man showed his colors and he made her a little nervous. He was a great ally to have, but a terrible enemy to make. “I’ll drop your Boy Scout’s name from my vocabulary,” she winked, trying to keep the façade going. “I promise.”

“Boy Scouts,” Peter mumbled. “That’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“Johnny,” Peter grabbed his phone off the table. “He joined the Avengers.”

“And you let him?”

“No,” Peter said. “He was already apart of them. He is going to quit, but the Avengers might have intel on our guy.”

“So he could be our man on the inside,” Felicia said. “Clever. If he agrees.”

“He will,” Peter said, pressing his phone to his ear and stepping away to the kitchen. The phone rang twice before Johnny answered.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet, as if he wasn’t trying to be overheard. “What are you up to?”

“Working overtime,” Peter joked. “Hey I got a favor to ask for you. You haven’t left the Boy Scouts yet, have you?”

“No not yet,” Johnny asked. “We got a briefing right now, and I was going to tell them after.”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“I need some help,” Peter said. “I need to see if the Avengers have intel on someone. Could you do that for me?”

“You want me to spy on an Avenger?” Johnny asked, his voice quieter than it was before.

“No, I want to know what dirt the Avengers have on a friend of mine,” Peter said. “Or at least what we can find out about him. I’ll tell you about it later. Just don’t quit, not yet.”

“Okay,” Johnny said. “I have to go back in this briefing. Will I see you tonight?”

Peter’s eyes darted towards Felicia, who pretended to be fascinated with her nail beds. He turned his back towards her. “I got something going on right now. I’ll meet up with you after I’m done?”

“No hurry, I just –“ Johnny said, almost stopping as if someone was near. “I just miss you. That’s all.”

“It’s barely been a day,” Peter laughed gently, leaning against the counter. He really missed the domestic dates he had with Johnny. For a brief moment, Peter could pretend that they were a normal couple. No crime, no bad guys, no good vs evil, just Peter and Johnny. “I miss you, too, Pretty Boy. I’ll be done late. Leave your window open for me.”

Peter hung up the phone, setting it down on the counter. He turned back to face Felicia, who had her chin propped up on the palm of her hand, clearly listening to their conversation.

“That’s cute,” Felicia teased. “What are you guys? 14?”

“Well, I was going to offer putting off our plan tonight and stopping by the Met instead,” Peter said, leaning back against the counter. “But I’ll guess I’ll ask Johnny if he wants to stay up and cyberbully middle schoolers on Call of Duty and shotgun cans of Monster until 3am.”

“Oh come on,” Felicia crossed her arms and pouted. “I promise you, it will be fun.”

“Worth it?”

“Worth every pretty penny on the black market,” Felicia said. “I promise you, Spider, it’s absolutely worth it.”

“Okay,” Peter said, reaching on the table to pick up his mask. “What’s the plan?”

The plan was simple as a heist could get. Disable the alarms, enter through the skylight, make their way throughout the museum until Felicia finds her prize. A quick field trip to the museum after their short briefing showed them exactly where to find the jewels. Once it hit nightfall, they fell into place. They made the perfect team. Felicia was sly, always moved under the radar and knew how to get past security trips. Peter, on the other hand, could be sly if he tried hard enough, but often relied on his punches to get what he wants. Peter helped out with security and brutes during their adventures. He was Felicia’s backup if things went south. This trip was nothing more than an adrenaline rush for him. This was Felicia’s prize to be won. She had talked about the piece since it was announced it was going on display. “Worth millions,” she reminded him every time he told her that robbing a Tiffany’s would be quicker.

With the alarms disabled, their endeavor was a walk in the park. From the skylight, they dropped onto an almost empty floor, sneaking their way through the ventilation system to the exhibit. Peter stopped short, spying security right outside the exhibit. He quietly popped the vent off, and shot a webline at the guard, pulling him up to the ceiling, webbing him tight. He dropped down, gave the all clear to Felicia who hopped down gracefully.

The exhibit took up half of the west wing on the second floor. Peter wasn’t sure exactly what all — or who all — were on display. He just knew that whatever it was, Felicia had to have it. She smiled as she made her way through the exhibit, gently dragging a finger on the display cases, humming softly as she searched for her prized possession. She came to a stop in the center of the exhibit, grinning mischievously towards Peter. He shrugged, leaning against a display case in the front of the room. Felicia rolled her eyes, tracing a circle on the top of the display case, popping the glass up. Felicia pulled out the necklace from the enclosure, cusping the center piece gently as she rotated it to make sure it was genuine. She smiled, clasping it around her neck for safe keeping. She took another look and found something else she liked. Her fingers gently moved from piece to piece taking the ones that suited her interest.

“Like a kid in a candy store,” Peter rolled his eyes, glancing over the display. He wasn’t much of a jewelry type of guy. The last time he remembered wearing rings consecutively were in high school, before his powers, when he knew he was going to end up in a fight. Every once in a while, he would wear one of Uncle Ben’s rings that he kept at home. They weren’t anything extravagant, they were well worn and old. But it meant a lot to Aunt May that Peter had them. They reminded him of the man who raised him, of the man who taught him how to fight, of the man who worked hard to put food on the table.

They were nothing like these rings.

Elegant. Expensive. Too flashy for Peter’s taste. He couldn’t remember why they were here. Felicia said that they were a rotating exhibit with a piece she needed to get her hands on. 

And apparently, there were several others she needed too.

A yellow sapphire caught Peter’s eye. The ring had a thick gold band. The large oval jewel danced when the light hit it, mimicking orange flames surrounded by a sea of yellow. Peter remembered the first time he fully admired Johnny’s flames. The way he controlled his fire was second nature and truly captivating. The various shades of orange, yellow and red flames covered his body, constantly moving. His crystal blue eyes turn white hot. How his blonde locks mimicked a flame of a candle.

Over all, Johnny was breathtaking.

“Hey Cat,” Peter called. She looked up from her loot, her draw string silk bag nearly tripled in size. “Would you grab something for me?”

“Something caught your eye, Spider,” she smirked and walked over to the display. She dragged her finger carefully on the glass, tracing a perfect circle around the ring before popping the glass up. “Gorgeous piece, but you know there’s some better pieces that would be worth triple this.”

She gestured at Peter to pick it out of the case. He reached in carefully and pulled it out. “This is the one I want,” he said, admiring it before putting it in his pocket. “Not everything is about cash value.”

“It is,” Felicia said as-matter-of-fact. “That’s the whole reason we’re here.”

“And how many of those are you keeping?”

“Mind your business,” Felicia rolled her eyes. “They’re investments.”

“Usually people don’t wear their investments,” Peter pointed out.

“ _Usually_ teams work together,” Felicia said. “Grab that amethyst pocket watch, and let’s get going.”

Peter did so, following Felicia out the same way they came in. Peter lifted Felicia into the vent. Felicia didn’t need his help. And Peter didn’t need hers. But in their companionship, they found it easier to move as one rather than separately. It just became second nature to rely on one another.

“So you really think he’s gonna wear that?” Felicia asked, reaching down to help pull Peter into the vent.

“Wear what?” Peter wrinkled his brow.

“The ring,” Felicia said, starting to make her way back through the ventilation. “You giving that to him tonight? Or are you going to wait for a special night?”

“What does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t,” she said, popping the vent off from above them. She waited for a guard to move before pulling herself up. “I just think it’s cute.”

The guard turned around just barely enough time to acknowledge the Spider-Man before webbing encased his face. The Spider-Man shot a webline, yanking him towards the two. He brought his fist down the side of the guard’s face, then webbed him to the ground.

“Well stop thinking about it,” Peter huffed in annoyance. He took her by the waist and aimed up toward the hole in the skylight, pulling them up and out of the museum.

“I’ve just never seen you that gentle to someone before.”

“I can drop you if you want to see how gentle I can be.”

“I’ll pass,” Felicia rolled her eyes. “it’s just kind of … nice. To see you like that.”

“Like what?” Peter asked, wrinkling his brow. He set Felicia down on the skylight. “Vulnerable?”

“Caring,” Felicia corrected.

“I care about you.”

“You never stolen anything for me,” she pouted. Peter rolled his eyes and waved her off. He started to walk towards the edge of the building to jump, ready to end this conversation. “When do I get to meet him?”

“Hopefully never,” Peter said. He gestured towards her silk bag of stolen treasures. “Let me know when you got a seller and I’ll be your muscles.”

“My hero,” She said, walking to the other side of the rooftop. “Don’t forget to ask about our guy. How much are you going to tell him?”

“I – I don’t know,” Peter said, hesitantly. He wants their relationship to last, and that would mean keeping honest. Johnny said that he didn’t care what Peter did — didn’t care about his second job, but Peter’s not quite sure about that. Johnny was a hero. He’s meant to be a hero. Those traits don’t just disappear overnight. “He’s going to wonder, but I don’t want to bring him into this mess. I don’t want him to realize that I’m a mistake.”

“There it is.”

“There what is?”

“Vulnerability,” She said, winking. “Good luck with that. Catch you later, Spider.”

She aimed her grappling hook to the East, catching a building across the street. She leaped off the roof, swinging off into the Upper East Side, landing on another rooftop and taking off. Peter took off in the opposite direction, straight towards the Baxter Building.

* * *

Peter didn’t realize how late it was until he arrived at the Baxter Building. With most of the lights being off, Peter relied on muscle memory to get to Johnny’s bedroom. When he finally found it, he couldn’t find Johnny.

“Johnny?” He called, walking through the empty room. It was almost unnerving to be in Johnny’s room alone. Without him, it didn’t feel right. It was too empty. Johnny took all the warmth with him. Peter hesitated at the bedroom door, never being past the door before. It felt wrong, almost as if he would be caught if he walked past that door. But Johnny told him he was the only one living here. There’s no reason to feel like he could get caught… right?

Peter pushes through the door and walked down the hallway, working to find his way to the living room. Johnny’s got to be around here somewhere.

“Johnny?” He called again, stopping at the edge of the living room. Peter remembers Johnny tell him about his nephew, probably not much older than 3 at the time, and the mornings that Franklin refused to let Johnny sleep in. Johnny would talk about the days that he babysat Franklin in the afternoons and the different ways he entertained him or the new snacks they tried that day. Johnny made his life seem so normal.

It felt weird standing in the living room without life, it felt like he was standing with the ghost of Johnny’s normalcy.

A photo on the mantle caught Peter’s eye. He went over and picked it up. It was a recent photo — well, relatively recent.

The photo looked like it was meant to be a team photo, all the members of the Fantastic Four were lined up in the lab wearing their blue uniforms, but the two small children in the photo made the picture felt warmer. Reed Richards held the young girl, his arm wrapped around her three times holding her tight. His other arm pulled in a laughing Sue. Ben Grimm stood in between Reed and Johnny, his arms wrapped around them. Johnny held Franklin, balancing him on his hip. Franklin looked so carefree in Johnny’s arms. Johnny looked … happy.

Peter wondered if Johnny’s family came home, if Johnny would leave him. Peter wouldn’t be welcomed in their family unless they didn’t know about his secret identity. And if they didn’t, it wouldn’t be long until they pieced it together. They were a team of scientists, how could something like a secret identity slip past them easily?

If they didn’t come back, would Johnny miss having that family setting? Peter couldn’t provide that for him. Peter couldn’t bring a child into his life when he could barely handle himself on some days. He wondered if Johnny would truly be happy with him, or if he would eventually leave him.

The elevator beeped as it arrived to the floor snapping Peter out of his thoughts. Out of habit, he stepped closer to the mantle, attempting to hide in the shadow. As soon as the door opened, Johnny stepped out. Peter relaxed.

“Hey Johnny,” he called from the living room, slowly stepping out into sight.

“Pete?” Johnny said, startled. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Peter said, reaching up and pulling off his mask. “I got done early tonight. Figured I’d come over now.”

“You’re good, I was working in the lab and just didn’t expect you,” Johnny said. He softly laughed. “It’s been a while since I’ve walked in and someone else was here. What do you got?”

“Oh, I —“ Peter looked down at the photo in his hand. He handed it to Johnny. “Sorry, snooping.”

It’s been a while since Johnny has really looked at the photo. It was bittersweet to see his family together. He loved looking back at the memories, washed over with happiness that they had brought, but it quickly reminded him that they’re not here anymore. That these are the only memories he has left of them, and he’s unsure if he will ever make more. “We took this about a week before they disappeared,” Johnny said. “We had the camera on a self timer and Franklin was supposed to guide us in frame. Until Val came running into the shot.”

“He looks like you,” Peter said, wrapping his arms around Johnny’s waist. He rested his chin on Johnny’s shoulder, looking at the photo. “You guys have the same smile.”

“He’s a good kid,” Johnny said, leaning into Peter. “Smart. Kind. No powers.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Johnny said, setting the photo down and turning around to face Peter. “It means he gets to have a normal life.”

“You guys take him on space adventures,” Peter laughed. “I don’t think that’s a normal life.”

“As normal as it gets,” Johnny said. “He doesn’t have to worry about what people would think of him.”

“See, if you’re a bad guy, you don’t have to worry about that,” Peter lifted Johnny’s chin and kissed him gently. “I’ve been told it’s the lack of a guilty conscience.”

“Funny,” Johnny said, leaning back in for another kiss. He leaned his head against Peter’s shoulder. He pressed his hand against the center of Peter’s chest, over the white spider, before running his hand up and down his chest. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in this.”

“Do you like it?”

“It brings back memories,” Johnny hummed. His hand stopped over the spider, remembering how it stuck out from the ripped green button up that Peter wore on the last day he saw him. He remembers Peter’s face, blood specks danced around his freckles. Johnny remembers his beautiful brown eyes on that day — dark and terrifying one moment, then quickly switching to apologetically soft and gentle. That was the moment Johnny knew he was in trouble. If Peter wouldn’t have stepped out of his life then, Johnny wasn’t sure if he could find the strength to leave him. “I love it. It’s always looked great on you.”

“I love your new one,” Peter said.

“Maybe we will have to go out in it,” Johnny said. “Post Avengers.”

“Right,” Peter said. “I wanted to talk to you about that. About my friend?”

“I’m beginning to think he’s not actually your friend,” Johnny joked, taking Peter’s hand and pulling him to the couch. “Who do you need me to stalk? The Vulture? Electro?”

“No, they’re fine for now,” Peter said, sitting down on the couch next to Johnny. “They’re in Ryker’s.”

“Do you need me to find the identity of The Lizard?”

“No I’m familiar with Dr. Connors,” Peter said.

“What—“

“It’s Wilson Fisk.”

“The mayor?” Johnny half laughed. Peter was serious. “What about him?”

“I need to find out what he’s doing,” Peter explained. “He’s got … a project that’s over budget. The Atlas housing project is at least 10 million over budget for housing development.”

“And you think something shady is going on?”

“I _know_ something shady is going on,” Peter said. “And I want in.”

Peter watched as Johnny processed what Peter was asking. Whatever trouble Wilson Fisk was getting into, Peter wanted a cut of it. And he wanted Johnny to help him achieve this. He watched as Johnny’s jaw tightened, debating whether or not he should get involved. If it was right, or if he cared about doing the right thing. “Okay,” Johnny nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Peter leaned in, pressing a kiss against his jaw. “Thank you,” he said against his skin. “I promise you, it will be worth it.”

Johnny cradled the nape of Peter’s neck in his hand. “Are you going to get a better apartment with that money?”

“You going to move in with me?” Peter meant to joke, but his words came out as sincere. It was always different with Johnny, compared to others he’s dated. He used to be a wall in relationships, hesitant to let his guard down in case he was wronged. He hasn’t felt this in love since Mary Jane — or even Gwen. He knew they were moving fast, but it felt right. It felt like they were falling back into place, exactly where they needed to be.

“Absolutely.” Johnny didn’t have to think twice. He was tired of being alone. He was tired of feeling unloved. He missed Peter, and didn’t want to risk losing him again. “I would love to.”

“I love you, Hot Stuff,” Peter kissed his neck. “I missed having you around.”

“I missed you,” Johnny said. “I missed us.”

“I’ll hold onto you for as long as you let me.” Peter stole a quick kiss from Johnny, before pulling him up from the couch. “C’mon, You hungry? Let’s order takeout.”

* * *

Sometimes the Avengers Tower was buzzing with energy. A variety of Avengers live and work at the tower, working to protect the citizens of Earth. But some days, it was quiet and emptied out, Johnny could almost go hours without bumping into another Avenger. And luckily, Johnny hasn’t seen anyone since he arrived earlier today.

He went into the lab, taking over a computer facing away from the doors and logged on. He moved the mouse over the S.H.I.E.L.D. Database shortcut, hesitating to log in. It wasn’t a crime for him to access this information. He has a log in, but why was he feeling so nervous about it? He’s not bad. He’s not a criminal. But what he’s doing is aiding a criminal, trying to find information to help the Spider-Man steal millions of dollars. He shouldn’t. But he told Peter he would. And whether or not Johnny helped him, Peter was still going to go after Wilson Fisk and his money. Johnny might as well make it easier for Peter and go unnoticed.

Johnny entered his access code logging into the system. From here, he shouldn’t be able to bring up anything or anyone that the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. is watching. He typed in Wilson Fisk’s name, bringing up a profile page. It had a photo of Fisk along with his basic information including date of birth, residency, occupation and status “active, no threat”. There were no entries underneath his name regarding S.H.I.E.L.D. surveillance. He searched for Fisk Industries, nothing popping up.

Wilson Fisk was never considered a threat to S.H.I.E.L.D. or to the Avengers.

Johnny searched for the Atlas Housing project, looking for anything regarding it, but none of his searches brought up anything regarding Fisk’s project. He looked into the mayor’s office, seeing if there was surveillance regarding other staff within the mayor’s office, but none of the entries were within Fisk’s time in office. Wilson Fisk was clean as far as the Avengers were aware. They knew nothing of what Peter was suggesting.

Johnny leaned back in his chair, looking at the door, checking for anyone who may have snuck up on him. Once he felt clear, he leaned back forward and picked up his phone, calling Peter.

The phone rang twice before Peter picked up.

“Hey Hot Stuff,” Peter said softly though the phone. “What’s going on?”

“I looked up your friend on our system,” Johnny said, balancing his cell phone between his shoulder and his ear. He scrolled on the list, double checking his information. “Everything’s coming out clean. There’s no surveillance on him or the Atlas project.”

Peter hummed, almost in frustrated. “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” Johnny said. “I looked at his name, Fisk Industries, and the mayor’s office. It all came clean. There’s no investigations into any of his projects. ”

“And Kingpin?”

“The drug lord?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah, would you see if anything pulls up?”

“Yeah, sure,” Johnny said, searching for Kingpin. The system loaded as it attempted to pull up the files and information regarding Kingpin, but it was quickly halted as a dialog box popped up, requiring user information. Johnny typed in his information, but it was denied. “It’s all restricted,” Johnny said, trying his password again, just to get denied a second time. “I have to have clearance.”

“Okay,” Peter huffed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do some investigative journalism.”

“Please be safe,” Johnny said. “I’m about to head home. I’ll see you soon?”

“I might be out late,” Peter said. “If you want to hang out with Bobby tonight, you can and I’ll catch you later.”

“Okay,” Johnny said. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Peter hung up the phone and pulled his mask down. He was going to have to find his information the old fashion way. If Johnny goes out with Bobby, Peter had plenty of time.

He swung down to city hall, landing on the rooftop. He was hoping Johnny had some information — a name of an official who was head of the program, or a particular department within the mayor’s office who recently received a ton of new hires, or just any dirt on Fisk that would help him tonight. He was going in blind.

Peter pulled open a vent cover and worked his way through the vent system, remembering the blue print Felicia had shown him a few weeks ago. If he was going to learn more about the Atlas project he was going to have to go directly to the source.

Once he got close to Fisk’s office, he slowed his pace, stopping every so often at a vent cover to take care of the guard below him. The mayor was scheduled to be out of his office tonight and at the police foundation gala, but a few security guards roamed city hall to keep it safe from intruders. Peter popped open the cover, quickly webbing the last officer and pulling him up to the vent violently, banging the officer’s head against the metal vent before webbing him to the ceiling.

Peter dropped down quietly and brushed the dust off his hands. “Someone’s gotta tell Willy that he needs to dust the vents,” he mumbled to himself, pushing the doors to Fisk’s office open. “Sure, you don’t notice it now but you will once it hits winter and you want the heat on.”

He walked over to Fisk’s desk and opened the drawer, slowly dragging his fingers through the files, looking for anything that could be Atlas related. He closed the desk drawer and moved to the next, finding nothing regarding it. He huffed, before turning to the computer. He pulled out a jump drive from his pocket and plugged it into the computer. The jump drive’s program took over, quickly trying password combinations. Peter snooped through the rest of Fisk’s files, taking photos of anything that looked slightly important. He turned his attention back to the computer when the computer beeped confirming the log in. He quickly searched for the files, finding several unnamed documents within folders of the Atlas project. He moved the files to his jump drive, then quickly moved to finding any invoices for the past year that Wilson Fisk had submitted to the city, along with any personal invoices that were left on his computer.

He was working on downloading Fisk’s emails when he heard a noise from the hall. Peter pulled the jump drive from the computer, shoving it back into his pocket and zip lined up to the ceiling. The door slammed open, an angry guard stepped into the office with two officers behind him.

“Find him before he finds what he’s looking for,” the office barked. The mayor’s office looked untouched and calm. The light from the computer screen shown that nothing on the desk was missing. The officer turned around and looked at the two other guards. “If we don’t have him in handcuffs by the end of the night, the boss will make you two dumbasses wish you’d never were alive in the first place. Find him!”

The officer stormed out, shouting for one guard to go left, while the other went right. Peter smirked as the thought of handling these guards out of spite crossed his mind. It could increase his chance of being seen, but the taste of malice was too sweet not to give up.

As soon as the guards stepped out of view of the office, he slowly dropped down. He scanned the top of Fisk’s desk, in search of anything that may be of importance to him. He flipped through the paper schedule on Fisk’s desk, taking photos of the upcoming weeks. He flipped to the back and glanced through the contacts — all of which seemed legitimate. Fisk was old fashioned. There had to be a little black book in his desk somewhere. He reached underneath the desk, finding a hidden compartment and pulling it out. He flipped open the book scanning at the entries, most of which were initials followed by a phone number, an address and a date. He closed it, slipping it into his pocket and zip lined to the ceiling. He crawled back into the vent, knowing that if he left, he would be undetected, and could get away with no trouble.

But where was the fun with that?

He tracked the head officer first, finding him coming back from the council chambers. He angled himself against the ceiling, waiting until the officer was directly underneath him.

Peter pushed off the ceiling, taking the officer to the ground. His forearm shoved against the officer’s windpipe, pinning him to the ground. The guard tried grabbing at Peter’s arm, gasping for air, trying to push him off. Peter pushed harder. “Do _you_ wish you were never alive?” Peter laughed. In a swift move, he picked up the man, slamming him against the wall, and webbed him in place. “You lucked out,” Peter shrugged. “I’m kind of trying a ‘no kill’ policy on for size. You know, like animal shelters do.”

The officer’s radio buzzed before another voice spoke up. “Left wing’s clear, over.”

Peter pressed the pushed to talk voice and mimicked the officer’s voice. “Chamber’s clear. If you don’t find the Spider-Man, I’ll kick your asses myself. Over.”

“Copy that, over,” the voice confirmed.

Another voice spoke up, a little uneasy, “We’re dealing with the Spider-Man?”

“Oh, I kind of outed myself there, huh?” Peter winked at the officer, as if he could tell. Peter pushed the talk button, waited for the attention of the other guards before he moved. He slammed the heel of his palm against the officer’s other shoulder, breaking his collarbone. The officer’s scream carried over the radio. Peter pulled the radio off of the officer’s uniform, taking a step away from the officer moaning in pain. “Is that a clear enough answer for you? Over.”

He let go of the button, letting the static echo through the halls.

The utter silence of fear was like music to his ears. Peter grinned, waiting to hear a pen drop, before realizing he knew exactly where one of the men were.

“Nice working with you officer,” he gave a halfhearted nod to the officer before zip lining to the vent and crawling towards the left wing. Once he found the guard, he dropped down, swinging. He kicked the guard back several feet. The guard landed on his shoulder, groaning. He quickly rolled over and aimed his gun up, pointing towards the Spider-Man. His aim shook slightly, as the other man stood still — not in fear, but almost dauntingly. “Do it,” the Spider-Man said. “I dare you.”

The guard hesitated. Almost as if he didn’t expect the Spider-Man to taunt him. He was almost an urban legend. He knew he was real, but he’s never encountered him. He never thought he would encounter him here of all places.

Peter felt the hairs on his neck rise, he adjusted his stance slightly.

Peter smirked.

The guard pulled the trigger.

In an instant, Peter jumped to the wall, dodging the bullet, finding a solid balance. He shot a web to the officer, snatching the gun from his grip and pulling it towards him. Peter held the gun in his hand and crushed it, before dropping the remains on the floor.

The guard sat in awe before realizing that Peter lunged at him. Peter’s fist hit the guard’s face, bringing him back to earth. He lifted the man by the front of his shirt before throwing him against the wall. “I can’t believe you shot at me,” he laughed. He picked the man up off the ground and threw him against the opposite wall, this time, webbing him up. “You brought a gun to a fist fight and still lost —“

Peter felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise again.

He leaped backwards, barely dodging a bullet from the third guard. He pushed off the ground with his hand stabilizing himself as he reached out with the other, shooting a web at the third guard. He yanked the guard towards him, grabbing him by his shirt. “He was there the whole time?” Peter glanced toward the webbed up guard. “We were having a moment and you were letting him ruin it.”

Peter grabbed the guard’s wrist, aiming the gun up.

“Let me help you here,” Peter said, moving his grip over the guard’s hand, pulling the trigger of the gun, firing into the ceiling. “Make you feel better?” He pulled the gun from the guard’s hand, tossing it aside. He took the guard’s arm, twisting it back, pushing the officer down. He snapped the guard’s arm, his scream filled the halls. He pushed the guard down effortlessly and stepped over him. “Do me a favor,” he called to the guards. “Tell your boss he should be afraid.”

Peter felt intense shivers down his back.

“Afraid of what?” A deep voice came from behind him.

“Afraid of me,” Peter turned around and shot webs to the wall behind Wilson Fisk. He pulled, slingshotting himself feet first at Fisk’s chest.

Fisk swung his arm, knocking Peter through the wall as if it was paper thin. Peter pushed himself up.

“Alright, if that’s what we’re doing,” Peter webbed a piece of debris throwing it at Fisk. Using a web line, pulled himself to Fisk, following the concrete with his fist. “I thought you were out sucking policemen’s cocks tonight, Fisk?”

Fisk grabbed Peter off of him, throwing him on the ground. He raised his fists bringing them down, Peter barely had enough time to roll away, pulling himself to the ceiling.

“Did that pluck a string?”

“What do you want Spider?” Fisk grabbed a vase podium, throwing it full strength at the Spider-Man. Peter dodged, swinging out of the way.

“Nothing from the Mayor,” He said, landing on the banister. “I need something from the _Kingpin_.”

He watched the look in Fisk’s eyes go from annoyed to furious. Anyone who knew the Kingpin knew never to connect his identities. It was much worse than just stepping on some toes or crossing a line.

Peter watched as Fisk came at him full speed. He jumped over Fisk, shooting a web at him — Fisk grabbed the web pulling the Spider-Man in. Fisk’s fat fist slammed into Spider-Man’s head, sending him back against the wall. He pushed himself off the ground, quickly finding himself in the air. Fisk slammed his body back into the ground, picking him back up and throwing him over the banister onto the first floor.

“You want to call me that again, Spider?” Fisk growled.

“What’s that?” Peter pushed himself off the ground. “You have to speak up, Kingpin. It’s hard to hear you over —“

Fisk jumped from the second floor, fists aimed towards Peter. Peter dodged, webbing a nearby chair and throwing it at the Kingpin. The chair hit Fisk’s back like it was nothing. Fisk slammed his fist in a long side table, breaking it in half. He picked up a piece and threw it at Peter. Peter dodged, harrowingly missing being hit by the first piece of the table. Fisk, in the meantime, picked up the second and threw it exactly where Peter dodged to, bringing Peter to the ground.

“Have you tried pitching for the Mets?” Peter groaned, pushing off the ground. Fisk came charging towards him, swinging his fists down. Peter rolled to the side, reaching out to web the wall to pull him to safety when Fisk swung his fist into Peter’s side. “Or defense for the Giants,” Peter mumbled. “Any sport that’s not banging me into a wall.”

“Are ya gonna tell me what you’re here for?” Fisk grabbed Peter’s leg, pulling him away from the wall. “Who sent ya.”

“The Governor’s office,” Peter spat.

Fisk picked up Peter by the leg, slamming him into the ground. “Who. Sent. Ya.”

Peter slowly rolled onto his back to look up at Fisk. His eyes darted above him then back to Fisk. “Drop dead, Fisk,” he shot a web to the chandelier above him, yanking down hard. The chandelier was enough to distract Fisk, letting Peter go from his grip temporarily. Peter webbed a piece of a broken column, throwing it at the Kingpin. He shot web pellets, webbing him up as fast as he could. He shot a web, pulling him in and bringing his fists down on Fisk’s face.

He thought the webs would hold him longer. Fisk broke out, slamming Peter on the ground. He picked up a piece of broken cement, slamming it onto Peter. “You’re gonna regret this.”

“Not as much as you,” Peter groaned, using all of his strength to kick Wilson Fisk back.

Peter thought he was getting the upper hand on Fisk. For what felt like the first time tonight, every punch he threw hit him, and was sending him back and off his balance. That was, until Fisk grabbed him and threw him against the wall’s corner. His shoulder hit it perfectly, sending out an audible gasp from Peter’s lungs. Fisk grinned. Hit after hit, Fisk kept going. It felt as if Fisk laid his hits harder and harder.

Fisk was trying to kill him.

Whatever dirt Peter may have had on him, it was enough to be killed over. He had to get out of there, fast. Fisk brought his fists back up over his head, ready to be brought down into Peter’s chest. Peter shot web after web, linking them together before pulling himself up, and pushing Fisk backwards. Pain seethed up his side. As he aimed up to the vents and pulled himself through.

He had to move quick.

As soon as he found the surface, he shot a web to a nearby building and swung off.

His body ached with every swing. His arms felt like they were barely hanging on to his body. His shoulder screamed in pain, it had to be dislocated. There’s no way he could make it all the way home.

Peter groaned as he accidentally let go of his web, landing abruptly on a roof top. He slowly pulled himself up and looked over the edge, spotting the subway entrance. It wasn’t his best option, he should just swing the rest of the way home, he only has a few more blocks, but his body screamed for a break. He webbed his way down and snuck into the subway entrance, catching the R train as it came by. He laid on top of the subway and closed his eyes exhaling slowly. If he were to guess, he had a couple of broken ribs. Maybe a concussion. A bruised ego. He sighed, ran his hand against his leg, feeling the jump drive in his pocket. He got what he came for. He could rest for a little longer.

He didn’t realize he passed out until he felt the train jerk to move. He groaned, rolling over, and zip lined to the wall of the tunnel as the train left him. He slowly crawled out, realizing his mistake. He was out a lot longer than he thought. He missed his stop, and made his way into Midtown. He groaned. He had one of two options. He could wait here for a second train, taking him back to Canal Street, or he could swing his way home. If he stayed, he risked the chance of being sighted or passing out again in the subway station. He weighed his pros and cons before swinging his way out of the subway station and back into the city.

He pulled himself up to a nearby building’s rooftop, ready to head back south when something caught his eye to the north.

He could see the Baxter Building a few blocks away.

If he angled right, he should be able to swing directly to Johnny’s bedroom. His window will be unlocked and Peter can sneak in. Johnny was going to be out with Bobby anyway, it shouldn’t be a problem.

Except Peter never planned for the Parker luck to effect his plans.

He took a deep breath before leaping from the rooftop, groaning as soon as his casted web stuck and yanked on his shoulder. He lost balance, but kept swinging. Just a few more blocks. That’s all he needed.

Once he got close enough to make the jump he let go of his web. He reached out to stick to the building, unable to control his momentum. His body twisted, going in shoulder first through the window, crashing on the tile floor.

Peter groaned in pain, slowly rolling off his shoulder onto his back. He closed his eyes as pain rushed over his body, as the adrenaline wore off. It’s not where he wanted to be, but it works just as well, he guessed. He tried envisioning what went wrong, what he could’ve done better, what he needed to do next time. His head pounded, making it hard to focus.

“Sue!” Johnny’s voice called from a distance. Peter rolled to his side, attempting to push himself up off the tile. His balance slipped and he fell back down with a groan. “Sue —“

Johnny stopped at the entrance of the dark lab, his eyes darted from the broken window to the broken glass on the ground, and a wounded Spider-Man in the center of it all.

“Pete,” Johnny breathed, running over to Peter’s side. His hands were gentle as they ran over his body, trying to find the best way to help Peter up. “What the hell happened?”

“I … broke through your window,” Peter said, looking up at Johnny. God he was beautiful. His tousled blonde hair always looked perfect. His curly locks almost glowed like a halo around his head. Johnny’s jaw tightened ever so slightly as his crystal blue eyes full of worry watching over Peter. “I’m sorry. There’s glass everywhere.”

“I know that much. I meant before that,” Johnny said softly, moving his hand to Peter’s side, feeling a wet warmth against the cloth of his suit. Peter winced. “You’re bleeding.”

“Johnny!”

Johnny swore under his breath, keeping his hand on Peter, holding him steady. Peter leaned his head on Johnny’s leg. “Everything’s fine,” Johnny called. “I’ll handle it.”

“Johnny,” Bobby said, his tone changed from worried to almost demanding his attention. Johnny glanced behind his shoulder, knowing full well what Bobby could see. Johnny on the floor, comforting a hurt villain in the Baxter Building’s lab. And it’s the Spider-Man, nonetheless. Everyone feared the Spider-Man. So why would Johnny be coddling him after he broke into their labs?

It didn’t look good at all.

“Bobby. Everything’s fine,” Johnny repeated. “I got this.”

“It doesn’t look fine to me,” Bobby said. “Johnny, is that —”

“I got this, Bobby,” Johnny said. “Get. Out.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Bobby stepped closer to Johnny. “ _He_ needs to go —“

“He’s _staying_ ,” Johnny snapped. “You need to —“

“Is this _him_? Your ex?” Bobby said. He half laughed as he approached Johnny. “You’re kidding me. The _Spider-Man_ , Johnny? _He’s_ your ex?”

“You can leave,” Johnny said. “He’s staying with me.”

“Johnny —“

Bobby put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny jerked his shoulder out of his grip. He pushed Bobby away. His hand ignited, covered in flames, warning Bobby to back up. “You can leave,” he repeated. “We are fine here.”

Bobby hesitated. Johnny could be stern, but he’s never seen him like this. Never this defensive to him. Bobby’s glance moved from Johnny’s face to the Spider-Man on his lap, looking in his direction. His face was covered, but Bobby could feel his smirk. He could feel his amusement and pride of Johnny standing up to him. He’s won Johnny over, and this proved it. “If you pick _him_ ,” Bobby said, stern and slow. “You better dump that scientist. You don’t need to hurt someone else.”

Johnny stayed silent, one hand resting on Peter’s chest, the other angled behind him flaming defensively. Bobby waited a few seconds for an answer, before pressing his lips together and nodded.

“Don’t get hurt, Johnny,” Bobby said, stepping away. “I’ll be here for you when you need me.”

Once Bobby was out of the room and into the elevator, Johnny flamed off.

“C’mon, Pete,” he said softly. He moved gently, wrapping one arm around his chest, and the other angled under his armpit. “Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up.”

“That was hot,” Peter mumbled, leaning back into Johnny. Johnny picked Peter up. Peter groaned. “Hot stuff—“

“Okay, new plan,” Johnny said, leaning Peter up against a lab table. “We get you cleaned up here, then go upstairs and rest.”

“I like that better,” Peter mumbled. He wrapped his arms around Johnny’s neck as Johnny hoisted him up on the table. With Johnny’s help, Peter slowly moved to lay down. He groaned as his back hit the table, his hand went to his side. He took a moment before slowly reaching up and pulling his mask off. Johnny’s breath hitched at the sight of Peter’s face. Bruises covered his face, darker underneath his eyes. His nose, already crooked from a previous break, was swollen. His cheekbones, red and sore, were covered in cuts. His hair was matted to his forehead with drying blood. Peter gave a half smile, his bottom lip fat. “Am I still handsome?”

“I’ve seen you better,” Johnny said, lifting Peter’s hand to his lips for a kiss. “Hang tight, let me get the first aid kit and some wet towels.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Peter said, closing his eyes as Johnny left his side to find the first aid kit. “I’m not moving for a while.”

“Probably for the best,” Johnny said, pulling the first aid kit from a shelf. He set it next to Peter, then went to grab towels from the shelf. He brought them back to Peter, moving to the sink at the other side of the table. “You going to explain how you ended up like this?”

Peter winced when Johnny gently dabbed the wet rag against his forehead. “Wilson Fisk.”

“The mayor?”

“Yeah,” Peter said.

“His men?” Johnny asked. “Like his security?”

“No like him.”

“You got beat up by the mayor?” Johnny raised his eyebrow. “I need you out of the suit, can you do that?”

Peter nodded gently as he slowly worked off the top of his suit with Johnny’s help. “The Kingpin,” Peter said, groaning as he moved too far too quickly.

“You keep saying that,” Johnny said, moving his rag to the wound on Peter’s side. Peter gasped in pain. “Sorry. What do you mean? Fisk’s the Kingpin?”

“Yes.”

“Like _the_ Kingpin?”

“Yes,” Peter said. He put his hand over Johnny’s, and locked eyes with him. “I promise you Mayor Fisk is the Kingpin. He’s up to no good.”

“So you’re trying to stop him?”

Peter softly laughed, then cringed in pain. He moved his hand from Johnny’s. “I was trying to rob him.”

Johnny moved the towel away from Peter’s wound and attempted to pat his damp skin dry. He reached into the first aid kit and found a gauze. He applied it to his skin carefully. “So you were trying to rob the Kingpin of millions of dollars?”

“No I was trying to rob the mayor of his files,” Peter said. “I need intel on the Atlas project. I was hoping I could find something.”

“Did you?”

Peter gently nudged Johnny’s hand away from his side. He slowly pushed himself up and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a jump drive and pressed it into the palm of Johnny’s hand. “The _Spider-Man_ always gets what he wants,” Peter jokingly lowered his voice, mocking J. Jonah Jameson whenever he threw a fit that the Spider-Man took over the front page again.

“You’re a mess,” Johnny laughed, holding the jump drive in his hand. “We will have to check this out later –” he went to hand it back to Peter, only to see Peter holding out a ring for him.

“This is for you.”

“From Kingpin?”

“No — I — this was from the other night,” Peter said. “When I was out on a work thing ... I’ve been meaning to give it to you.”

“It’s gorgeous, Pete,” Johnny took it and held it in his hand. He watched as the light reflected orange and gold in the amber jewel. He slipped the ring onto his finger and looked back up at Peter. “It means a lot to me,” he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against Peter’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“I … I want to clarify that a work thing —“

“Means stolen,” Johnny finished his sentence. “I figured.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Coming from you? More than okay,” Johnny pressed a kiss against Peter’s forehead. He took the wet rag and cleaned up Peter’s face from the blood that stained his skin. It might almost be easier to have Peter take a shower to get the blood off, but Johnny wasn’t sure if Peter could even stand long enough to shower. He must have looked concerned as Peter slowly reached up and ran his thumb over Johnny’s cheekbone soothingly.

“Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

“When you came down here, you called for Sue.” The words fell out of his mouth. He wanted to know, but he shouldn’t ask. The words just kept coming. “What did you mean by that?”

“I … thought they had returned,” Johnny said. “My family. Nobody else would’ve entered the lab.”

“Except for yours truly,” Peter said. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m just glad you’re not dead,” Johnny said. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Peter did his best to try to walk by himself, but he knew Johnny carried most of his weight. The trip upstairs felt like an eternity while simultaneously feeling as if Peter blinked his eyes. He knew without Johnny’s help, he may not even have made it out of the lab.

All of a sudden, Peter felt the comfort of Johnny’s bed around him. And he’s never felt more thankful for Johnny’s expensive taste.

“When we move,” Peter tried rolling on his side to look at Johnny on the edge of the bed. He groaned, Johnny quickly moved to stabilize him. “Let’s take your bed.”

“Comfy right?” Johnny said, leaning off of Peter and slowly getting into bed next to him. Peter’s hand rested on Johnny’s hip. Johnny traced the side of Peter’s face with his fingers. Peter’s eyes fluttered shut. “I should’ve been there with you.”

“I’m okay,” Peter mumbled. “I underestimated him. I won’t next time.”

“What’s our plan?”

Peter shot an eye open. “You mean for tonight? Sleep.”

“No, I mean for Fisk,” Johnny said. “I’m going to be there. You’re not going in alone.”

“Like hell you are,” Peter closed his eyes again. “I won’t let you get within two miles of him.”

“And I won’t let you turn up dead,” Johnny said. “You’re not going in alone.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Peter said. “I have a work partner.”

“That was off today?” Johnny raised an eyebrow. “I want to help you.”

Peter tightened his jaw. He didn’t want Felicia’s help today, it was a simple in and out. Fisk wasn’t supposed to be there. He ruined Peter’s plan. If Johnny wanted to help, Peter should let him. But Johnny’s a hero. Johnny’s _good_. Peter is everything but that. “I’m not being good,” Peter said. “It’s not an expose piece for the Bugle or clueing the city in on his corruption. There’s a lot of money involved and that’s my focus.”

“And my focus is keeping you safe,” Johnny said. “I don’t care what we’re doing, I want to help.”

Peter opened his eyes and studied Johnny. His blonde curls framed his face, every lock perfectly in place. Johnny’s soft blue eyes, focused on Peter, as serious as he could be. His soft skin, free of blemishes or scars, reminded Peter why he didn’t want Johnny involved. Peter didn’t want to put Johnny in danger. He didn’t want Johnny to get hurt. But Johnny was making it hard to say no. “Okay,” Peter said. He nodded, closing his eyes and curled in closer to Johnny, burying his head into Johnny’s chest. He was exhausted. Fisk took everything out of him. Johnny has proven that he cares about Peter time and time again, and he can put up a fight. For once, Peter needed to accept that he couldn’t do something alone. He could hear Felicia’s voice in the back of his head, ‘ _There it is. Vulnerability.’_ “Okay, Pretty Boy. If you want to.”

Johnny buried a kiss in Peter’s messy hair. “I do.”

“Tomorrow, we will look at that jump drive and figure out the next steps,” Peter mumbled against Johnny’s chest. “We’re done for today.”

“I figured so,” Johnny said. He drew circles on Peter’s bare back. “Get some rest.”

After a few minutes of silence, Peter spoke up. “I’m sorry about Bobby. I really fucked that up for you.”

“It was bound to happen,” Johnny said. “We knew that.”

“I figured months from now,” Peter said. “I thought you guys were going out.”

“We had a night in,” Johnny said. “Pizzas and movies.”

“Now you have to break up with that hot scientist,” Peter said. “That sucks, did you even get to sleep with him?”

“I keep trying but he keeps talking,” Johnny laughed. Peter chuckled, then groaned in pain. Johnny ran his hand on his back. “Go to sleep.”

“You’re pretty demanding, Pretty Boy,” Peter murmured. “Kind of hot.”

“Just wait until morning,” Johnny said, pressing a kiss against the top of Peter’s head. “See how hot I am then.”

* * *

Johnny woke up to a cold bed. For a brief moment, Johnny thought back to those few nights years ago, when they first started to hook up. The Spider-Man would show up at his open window, they’d start slow, quickly moving to the bed. Peter picking Johnny up reminding Johnny of his uncanny strength, then gently setting him down on the duvet as if he dropped him into a cloud. Overwhelmed by the sensation of Peter, Johnny would forget that they were no strings attached until he woke up alone.

But it’s different now.

The smell of something cooking hit his nose. He slipped out of bed and stretched, following the scent down the hall and into the kitchen. Peter stood at the stove humming to himself. Johnny leaned against the door way, admiring his physique. Somewhere between the bed and the kitchen, Peter stripped the rest of his suit, leaving him in his underwear. But the more exposed skin, the more Johnny saw what the Kingpin did. Peter’s healing factors worked wonders, but was no match for the purple bruises that covered his back and the scabbed abrasions on his legs and arms. It looked like most of Johnny’s bandages made it through the night.

“If you take a picture, it will last longer,” Peter said plainly, as he flipped his wheatcake. “How’d you sleep?”

“Better than you look,” Johnny said, walking into the kitchen. He hopped onto the counter next to Peter to watch him fix breakfast. “How about you?”

“I’m assuming good,” Peter hummed. “I don’t remember much after I made it here. Concussions will do that to you.”

“You have a concussion?” Johnny started to panic. “Do you need to go to a doctor—“

“I’m fine,” Peter laughed, brushing Johnny’s worry off. “It’s mild and nearly gone. Just a headache that a few painkillers will take care of.”

Peter moved the wheatcake off the pan and onto a plate. He turned off the stove top and handed Johnny a plate with a stack of wheatcakes.

“My aunt’s recipe,” Peter said.

“How is she?” Johnny said, taking a bite. “Does she still hate me?”

“Very much,” Peter laughed. He leaned up against the kitchen island across from Johnny with his own plate of wheatcakes. “She likes to remind me that I’m better off without a celebrity boyfriend, that I should date normal people like Mary Jane.”

“Watson?” Johnny asked. “Like the Broadway actress?”

“Yeah,” Peter laughed. “Her aunt is my aunt’s neighbor. So she doesn’t count to Aunt May.”

“I’ll have to win her over,” Johnny said. “Prove I’m better than Mary Jane Watson.”

“Good luck with that,” Peter said with his mouth full of wheatcake. “She absolutely loves MJ.”

Johnny cut a bite of his wheatcake, dragging it in the syrup as a question twisted in his gut. “Why didn’t it work out,” He finally asked. “Between you and MJ.”

“I was … too much,” Peter said. “She didn’t like me coming home like this. She said she prefer boyfriends who come home in one piece.”

“Yeah I can see why,” Johnny said, taking a bite. “Your face still looks pretty rough.”

“Gee thanks,” Peter laughed. “Are … you okay with this?”

“To be honest, not really,” Johnny said. “But I know that you’re not going to stop. So I’d rather be here next to you with a first aid kit then know you’re dead in a ditch.”

“I wouldn’t be dead in a ditch,” Peter wrinkled his nose. “More like bleeding out on a rooftop or taking a long, spontaneous nap in a dumpster.”

“Whatever,” Johnny laughed. “You going to tell your Aunt about us?”

“Eventually,” Peter said. “I’d like for us to pretend we’re a normal couple.”

“You broke a window 40 stories high by smashing through it,” Johnny said. “I think we’re well past normal.”

“I’d like to pretend for once,” Peter laughed. He set his empty plate on the island counter walked over to Johnny, stepping between his legs and setting his hands on his hips. Johnny laughed, quickly moving his plate away from Peter and setting it aside. He wrapped his legs around Peter’s waist and his arms around his neck. Peter smiled as he leaned in a stole a kiss from Johnny. “Just for five minutes I want to be normal.”

“Then let’s,” Johnny said. “We can go out to eat. Or pretend to be tourists. Rent some dumb movies that we won’t end up watching.”

“You lost me at pretending to be tourists,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “I was thinking about doing a steak out tonight.”

“At Fisk’s?”

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I want to look at the jump drive we got and see if there’s something I need to look out for.”

“Well, forget about being normal,” Johnny laughed. “You’re in no position to go out tonight. Have your partner do it.”

Peter wrinkled his brow. “I’m fine.”

Johnny moved a hand and pushed against the bandage on Peter’s chest. Peter gasped in pain, swatting away Johnny’s hand. “You’re not fine, you’re covered in bruises.”

“Okay so maybe I need a little rest day,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “But we can still look at the jump drive files.”

“Like I said, forget about being normal,” Johnny laughed.

“Just pretend we’re cyber stalking someone from high school,” Peter said. He put his hands back on Johnny’s hips and squeezed gently. “We can celebrate by going out to eat tonight, my treat.”

Before Johnny could finish saying “Okay,” Peter picked him up. Johnny yelped, quickly turned into laughing as he wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck as he carried him to the couch, dropping him a shade away from gracefully. He snuck a kiss from Johnny before getting up and searching for the jump drive. Johnny got off the couch, retrieving the laptop from the dining room table and bringing it back to the living room. When Peter came back, he handed Johnny the jump drive and dropped the little black book on the coffee table.

“What’s this?” Johnny picked it up as Peter sat down next to him, taking over the laptop to look at the files.

“His contacts,” Peter said. “He’s gonna be real mad when he found out I took them.”

Johnny flipped through it, most of it was well coded, keeping names short to initials and addresses without names or a purpose. Each entry was accompanied by a phone number and a date. There had to be a way to decode it without calling every single number. Johnny wondered what all these were for. Clearly, nothing good. Suppliers, ‘business’ partners or ‘employees’ could’ve been anyone on this list. “So what’s the Atlas project about again?”

“It’s _supposed_ to be a housing development program,” Peter said. “Taking abandoned buildings, fixing them up, and turning them into affordable, nice apartments. Ground breaking happened in Harlem a few weeks ago, and once it gets going, they will move to a few neighborhoods in the Bronx and then in Brooklyn. Fisk said that families living in homeless shelters are guaranteed an apartment if they apply.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad to me,” Johnny said.

“But they’re way over budget,” Peter said. “Even for a housing project, it shouldn’t be ten million over budget for an already built building.”

“So you think something shady is happening—“

“I _know_ something shady is happening,” Peter said. “Nobody named the Kingpin keeps a little black book with half named contacts and isn’t being shady. Here, look at this—” he turned the computer towards Johnny, showing him an invoice.

“It’s an invoice for scrap metal,” Johnny said, looking back up at Peter.

“But who needs that much scrap metal for renovating,” Peter said, reaching to move the laptop back towards him. “It was already an apartment building, it just needs—”

“Wait,” Johnny said, stopping Peter from moving it. He turned it back to himself, looking at the ‘pay to the order’ line. When it clicked, he reached for the little black book. “I saw that address in the book.”

Johnny flipped through the book, searching for the address. When he found it, he leaned over to show Peter. “Here. Phone numbers don’t match. This one is 212-010-5000.”

“Look at the phone number for the business above it,” Peter pointed out. “719-012-0000. These aren’t numbers, they’re payments. The invoice was for $10,500, if you forgo the area code, it’s a zero off from the phone number.”

“So you think that’s where they’re off?” Johnny asked. “Accounting errors?”

“No I think they’re paying for extra services,” Peter said. “I don’t think this is a real business and Fisk’s paying for something on the side. Drugs, security, staffing. _Something_.”

“I don’t know,” Johnny said, taking the computer over, scrolling through the files. “It feels like we’re missing something.”

Johnny opened another document, pulling up a void invoice. He glanced over it before switching back to the first.

“He’s not over budget.”

“What?”

“He’s not over budget,” Johnny pushed the computer back to Peter. “He got that invoice refunded.”

Peter studied the voided invoice, switching screens to the first document, trying to catch the differences. “He’s money laundering.”

“How did you get that?”

“He paid and was refunded in cash,” Peter said, pointing to the note in the first document. “They’re faking services to launder the money.”

“Are these real businesses?”

“Could be. He could have a man on the inside,” Peter said, searching through the files until he found the legitimate invoice for scrap metal. “Here. There’s a corrected invoice for $1,500. Paid by check this time.”

“So he pays big, gets a refund, then pays the actual amount?” Johnny asked. “The date next to the entry matches the invoice.”

“So for us to come home big,” Peter took the book from Johnny’s hands, flipping through to look at several entries. “We have to find one that’s dated in the future, with a decent amount of cash value and steal the legitimate cash. We just need to figure out how quickly the money is laundered.”

“And no Fisk,” Johnny said, almost relieved. He couldn’t go through watching Peter fight the Kingpin knowing how he came home last night. “Too busy running the ring to be involved in the transactions.”

“His men can be tough too,” Peter warned, knocking his knee against Johnny’s. “But we got ourselves a little team, huh?” He leaned over and kissed Johnny’s cheek. He stood up, walking towards the kitchen where he left his phone. “I’ll text Felicia that we cracked the code and we can move forward.”

“Felicia?”

“My partner,” Peter said. “The Black Cat.”

“Like _the_ Black Cat?” Johnny asked. “You sure she’s safe?”

“You forget who you’re dating,” Peter laughed. “I’ve worked with her the past two years, she’s well vetted.”

“I’m still not sure about her,” Johnny said. “She’s pretty serious trouble.”

“That didn’t stop you from me,” Peter said, texting Felicia. “And that was during the spider tracer murders.”

“Which were faked,” Johnny added. “You were framed –“

“But you believed it,” Peter said, pointedly. Peter didn’t mean it harshly, just as matter-of-fact, but Johnny felt the blame. So many of their fights were because Johnny accused Peter of murdering others, with only the spider tracers left at the scene as evidence. Johnny shrunk in his seat. Peter noticed, and walked over to Johnny, leaning over the back of the couch, burying a kiss into Johnny’s hair. “You know I forgive you, right?”

“I figured,” Johnny said, tilting his head back to catch Peter’s lips with his own. Peter’s phone buzzed. He kept his lips against Johnny’s for a few more moments before pulling away to look at his text.

“Felicia said she got a name,” Peter said. “She wants to see if we can find anything about him. She thinks he’s our way in.”

“I didn’t think I saw anything with names on it,” Johnny said, moving his attention back to the computer. “Mostly invoices.”

“No,” Peter said. “I think she’s wanting us to look on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database. You haven’t quit yet, have you?”

“Not yet,” Johnny said, turning back to Peter. “But I’m not sure about this.”

“Because it comes from Felicia?”

“No – No it’s just – ” Johnny stopped. The last time he was looking up information, he was terrified of getting caught. And when he came up with nothing, Peter went out looking for his own information coming home beaten and bloodied. “I don’t want to get caught.”

“ _We’re_ not going to get caught,” Peter said, pressing a kiss against his forehead. “I’m coming with you.”

“We’ve talked about this,” Johnny said. “You’re in no condition to go out tonight –“

“Then we will push it off until tomorrow,” Peter said, coming around the couch to sit next to Johnny. “Or Monday. I don’t care. I’m coming with you, and you’re not going to stop me.”

Johnny opened his mouth, closing it. He couldn’t argue with Peter. There was no point. Peter set his mind and that’s what he was going to do. Maybe it would be for the best, having a second set of eyes keeping watch. Peter had an alibi, they could be working together on a reverbium sample from Horizon labs. Johnny nodded. “Okay.”

Peter leaned in, pressing a kiss against Johnny’s forehead. “I’m going to shower,” Peter said standing up. “I have a dinner date tonight with an Avenger and I need to clean up. You going to join me?”

“In the shower or on the date?”

“I was hoping both.”

\-----

It was almost too easy to get into the Avengers tower and into the lab. Nobody question Johnny’s presence, nor the scientist that he checked in at the front desk. Johnny was thrown off for a quick moment when Peter checked in under Ben Reilly, handing over two fake IDs, including a fake work badge, for the front desk to copy and have on file. They handed the cards back to Peter and Johnny lead him to the empty elevator.

Peter hummed as he leaned against the side of the elevator looking at Johnny.

“What?” Johnny laughed.

“Just thinking about how you look,” Peter said, he extended his hand to Johnny. Johnny took it, letting Peter pull him into his arms. Peter wrapped his arms around Johnny’s waist, pressing his lips against Johnny’s ear. “And how you would look if I fucked you in here.”

“Stop,” Johnny laughed. He put his hand on Peter’s chest, pushing him off. The elevator dinged. Peter brought his hands back to himself, raising his eyebrow at Johnny. “No,” he laughed. “Come on.”

Johnny led Peter down the hall and into the large lab that he reserved for their research.

“This is crazy,” Peter whistled, looking around the lab. “I’ve always thought about breaking in here, but I’m not trying to but I’m not too interested in being an international war criminal.”

“Hush,” Johnny said, sitting down in front of a computer. “Or else someone’s going to figure out we’re doing something we’re not supposed to be doing.”

Johnny logged in, opening up their database and searched for Wilson Fisk. There were no entries underneath his name. He erased Fisk’s name replacing it with the Kingpin. It brought up a result, but the screen was blocked by the same dialogue box, requiring user information. Peter reached over Johnny, plugging in his jump drive into the tower. Johnny typed in Carol Danvers’ log in name, letting the jump drive’s program decipher the password. Peter pulled out a square piece of reverbium from his pocket setting it on the table. Johnny was able to snag them an hour and a half for research purposes, under the guise that Johnny was working with the researcher from Horizon Labs on the reverbium. They might as well make it look believable.

“Got it,” Johnny said as the program broke through the password and revealed the many entries listed under the Kingpin. Between suspected crimes and bases, affiliate criminals and businesses, and gang related incidents. The Avengers had almost anything you wanted on the Kingpin — except for his identity.

“I want it all,” Peter said. “Anything we can get.”

“We can get it all,” Johnny said, starting to transfer the documents to the jump drive. Peter fidgeted with the reverbium cube, leaning back on the opposite lab table as he watched Johnny work at the computer. 

“Are we getting takeout on our way home?” Peter asked, twisting the cube in his hand as if it was a child’s toy. “I was thinking pad Thai.”

“In the middle of this, you’re thinking about pad Thai?” Johnny laughed.

“Yeah,” Peter shrugged. “I mean, you’re doing the hard work. This is new to me. What else should I be thinking about?”

“Not getting caught,” Johnny said. “Trying to figure out how much of an offense this is.”

“Probably federal,” Peter shrugged. “Have you tried that place off of Avenue A and 6th? Fel brought me their green curry last week. It was pretty good.”

“I’m sorry you lost me at federal offense,” Johnny laughed. “Is there anything you want to look at before we move to the next guy?”

“Nah, we can look at it later,” Peter said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through his messages. “Felicia said the contact’s name is Francesco De Luca. She said he also goes by Frankie.”

“Okay, got him,” Johnny said, flipping through his entries. There wasn’t many, most were gang affiliated or related to the Kingpin. Johnny opened an entry put in a couple of months ago. Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. knew he was a close ally of the Kingpin and tried using him for intelligence, but the agent was stopped before they could even get close to Frankie. “This says he frequents the Flatiron Room. S.H.I.E.L.D. tried to talk to him there and failed.”

“We will do better,” Peter said. “Save that one, I want to remember that spot.”

“Other than that, they really don’t have much on him,” Johnny said. “Anyone else you can think of?”

“Nah,” Peter shrugged. “Nothing important.”

“Okay,” Johnny said, backing up on the search page. “We still have an hour to kill in here, since we told them we would be a while.”

Peter tossed the metal cube in his hand a few times, thinking how they could appropriate pass the time in the Avengers Tower, when an idea popped into his head.

“Hey, look me up,” Peter said, hopping off the table and leaning over Johnny. He set the metal cube on the table next to the computer. “What dirt do they got on me?”

Johnny searched for Peter Parker, coming up empty. He erased Peter’s name, searching for The Spider-Man, pulling up his profile. At the very top of the page, it listed the identity information that the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. had on him. His estimated age, gender, aliases, powers and status. Johnny was relieved that they didn’t have his real name or any connection to Peter Parker. Under his status, it listed him as active and wanted.

Several entries were entered under his name. Several that Johnny already knew about — the incident at Oscorp and the death of Otto Octavius, his involvement with the Sinister Five and the apparent deaths of Electro and Vulture, the murder of the district attorney and the mayor candidate, and the robbing of the federal reserve. But there were also a lot that he didn’t know about. The several jewelry stores that were robbed, police evidence rooms that reported webbing after a break in, theft at the Met, several home robberies and one hostage situation. Part of Johnny felt almost upset that he didn’t know about these, the other part of him told him to look past it. He knew what he was getting into.

“Last chance to back out, Pretty Boy,” Peter said, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s shoulder, leaning over him to look at the computer screen. “That’s not even half of it.”

“You act like I should be surprised,” Johnny said. “You know I’m not leaving you.”

Peter hummed, leaning his head against Johnny’s. He watched as Johnny opened the entry from Oscorp. The entry detailed the events of that day, how the security cameras and other measures were disabled, how the Shocker ‘kidnapped’ a researcher and ‘forced’ him to access the data base and release project information regarding Otto Octavius’ experimentations that were under Norman Osborn’s supervision. How the Spider-Man murdered Octavius. His autopsy was included in the attached documents, along with photos of the crime scene. At the bottom of the entry, the author suggested that the kidnapped researcher was involved, but after heavy surveillance and interrogations, it was deemed that said researcher Kyler Thomas was cleared from any wrong doings and that his identity was stolen during the incident.

A bottom footnote caught Peter’s eye.

Sources claimed sighting of the Human Torch.

Peter put his hand over Johnny’s, moving the mouse down and hovered over ‘the Human Torch’, until a link popped up. He clicked it, taking the page from the Spider-Man to Johnny.

Johnny’s information was more accurate; his age included a birth date, height and weight entered assumingly when Johnny joined the Avengers, and his active status, followed by ‘monitoring’.

There were four entries under Johnny’s name. The first when he and his team got their powers, the second when he and Spider-Man fought the Vulture, the third being the Oscorp entry from the Spider-Man’s page, and the fourth was entered yesterday. Peter clicked on it.

_Unnamed source reported sightings of known fugitive, the Spider-Man, at the Baxter Building. Reports that Johnny Storm — AKA The Human Torch — is harboring the Spider-Man. Keep Storm under tabs._

“We should go,” Peter said, pulling the jump drive from the computer and shoving it in his pocket. “Bobby told on us.”

“What do you think they mean ‘under tabs’?”

“I think that means we shouldn’t have come here,” Peter said, tugging at Johnny’s arm. “We really should go.”

“We could delete entries and –”

“You’re pushing your luck,” Peter said, yanking Johnny out of the chair. “ _You_ don’t need the Avengers after you.”

Johnny pulled his arm from Peter’s grip. “We can fix this,” he said. “I _want_ to fix this.”

“You’re risking your neck when you don’t need to,” Peter said, raising his voice. “They know your identity! They’re watching you. We don’t need to do anything that brings attention to you. We need to disappear —“

The sound of the lab doors opening startled the men. Peter quickly powered off the computer, grabbing Johnny by the hips and lifting him onto the lab table, pulling a gasp from Johnny. He crashed his lips against Johnny’s before he could even say a word.

Someone loudly cleared their throat, attempting to pull their attention away from one another. Peter pulled away, almost as fast as he crashed his lips. Johnny felt a blush creep over his cheeks.

“I thought you two were supposed to be studying the reverbium,” Carol Danvers asked from the doorway of the lab.

“We were,” Peter said, reaching behind Johnny and picked up the three inch cubed block of the metal. “We just got — distracted.”

Carol’s attention went from Peter to Johnny’s red face. “Storm, if this is how you research, consider using your home lab.”

Carol walked out of the lab. Johnny leaned forward, pressing his face against Peter’s chest and sighed in relief. That was too close for Johnny’s comfort. “We should go.”

“You think?” Peter laughed, pulling Johnny off the table. He held Johnny’s hands, giving a gentle squeeze. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss against Johnny’s lips. When he broke the kiss, he leaned forward pressing his lips against Johnny‘s ear. “If we get split up, meet me on top of the Statue of Liberty.”

“We’re going to be fine,” Johnny said, taking Peter’s hand and pulling him out of the lab. “We’ll just move quick.”

“Whatever you say, Firefly,” Peter said, picking up the reverbium, and followed Johnny. They made it almost halfway down the hall before someone called Johnny’s name. Johnny was about to stop to look back when Peter put his hand on his back, pushing forward. “Keep going.”

“Johnny!”

“Don’t stop,” Peter whispered. “Ignore them.”

“Storm, stop!”

“We can’t take the elevator,” Peter whispered. “On my count. One –“

“Storm!”

“Two —“

Johnny could hear the charge of the electric gun behind them.

“Three —“

“You’re under —“

“Run!”

Peter grabbed Johnny’s arm, yanking him far left against the wall of the hallway and of the electric pulse that the S.H.I.E.L.D. guard sent off. He pulled Johnny into the stairwell, running down. Adrenaline pumping, Peter started to catch the momentum, skipping half flights by jumping over the railing. Johnny caught on, flaming on to keep up with him.

“You need to go,” Peter said. “Four more flights, and you’re going through a window.”

“Windows are shatter prove,” Johnny said. “This is our only way out —“

“No,” Peter said. “Two more, get ready.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You’re the one they’re threatening with arrest,” Peter said. “Technically, I’ve done nothing wrong yet.”

“Yet?”

Peter grabbed Johnny’s arm through his flames — Johnny instantly flaming off once he realized what Peter was doing — and pulled him out of the stairwell. Peter took the cube of reverbium and threw it through the window. The window shattered, leaving almost a baseball sized hole through the window. “Flame on, Hot Stuff,” Peter went back to the stairwell door, giving Johnny one final look, winking before going back to the stairs. “I’ll catch you at the hideout.”

Johnny almost ran back into the stairwell after him. But he could hear someone approaching: fast and heavy. He flamed back on and raised his palm, aiming at the broken window. He blasted flames, watching as broken glass went flying. As soon as it was cleared, he flew out. The sudden speed reminded him of the times he chased Peter through the city, trying to catch a glimpse of him one last time. Johnny wasn’t sure if he was being chased, but he was going to take one out of Peter’s playbook. He flew through the city, weaving through buildings and neighborhoods until he killed enough time that if someone was following him, they would’ve been lost by now.

Once he landed on the torch, his gut sank. He knew Peter would take longer, but it didn’t hit him that he was going to have to wait and worry about him. He could handle himself, no doubt, but as soon as the Avengers realize he was the fugitive they’ve listed as wanted, Peter was screwed. Johnny ran his fingers through his hair, now more worried than ever.

Peter wasn’t worried at all.

A few more flights down, he stopped against the stairwell door, finding a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent guarding the door. He was alone, or that’s what he thought.

Peter forced the door opened and grabbed the agent, slamming him against the wall. He wrapped his arm around his throat, pulling tight. He waited, watching the agent struggle until his body went limp. He stripped the man of his uniform, taking it for himself. After a quick change, and webbing the passed out officer underneath a flight of stairs, he went through the stairwell door. He pulled the hat down a little further than expected, attempting to shield his identity.

Carol Danvers ran past him.

“Stairwell’s cleared,” Peter said, deepening his voice. “Has anyone checked the roof.”

“Bright idea,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t you go and check it, since the stairwell’s cleared?”

Peter bit his tongue, not ready to give up his identity. He nodded, went to the elevator, and called it. Now he was stuck going up. He stepped into the elevator, his finger hovered over the top floor button. He waited until Carol turned around, quickly pressing the first floor button and closing the elevator.

He sighed, leaning against the back of the elevator.

He ruined whatever relationship Johnny had with the Avengers. Even if he was going to leave, he could’ve came back if it wasn’t for the Spider-Man.

He set Johnny up to fail.

He ruined Johnny and Bobby’s friendship.

No.

Bobby did that.

He did that by turning Johnny in.

Peter could feel his blood start to boil.

Maybe _he_ should handle Bobby.

No.

Johnny wouldn’t want that.

Maybe if he scared him. If he had a reason to fear the Spider-Man.

Maybe that would be enough for Peter.

The elevator beeped as it reached the bottom floor. He started to walk out. He was almost free.

Until someone stuck out their hand, stopping Peter. “Identify yourself.”

“Sir, I was sent to check the perimeter,” Peter said in a fake military voice. “We believe that the Human Torch has left and we are looking for his escape route.”

“Who sent you?”

“Carol Danvers.”

The officer grumbled before stepping away from Peter. Peter nodded and walked out of the lobby, starting his perimeter check. Once he was out of sight, he started to strip the guard uniform, dashing through the crowd to the subway. He jumped over the card swipe, hearing commotion behind him.

They must have found the guard in the stairwell.

He pushed past the crowd, jumping into the subway, barely making it before it took off. He sighed in relief, feeling his pocket for the jump drive. He was good. His boss may kill him for the loss of the reverbium, but they had more. Enough that it shouldn’t have mattered.

Peter waited three stops before getting out. He pulled the hood up on his jacket, slipping through crowds to hide from any agents that may have been looking for him. Once he felt safe, he moved into an alleyway and climbed up the walls, finding a safe spot to change into Spider-Man.

It took him longer than he expected to get to the Statue of Liberty. He worked his way up from the back. He grabbed the railing of the torch, pulled himself up and over, landing on the small walkway with a thud.

“Pete!” Johnny threw his arms around Peter’s neck, burying his face into his shoulder. “I was afraid they found you.”

“I’m fine, Hot Stuff,” Peter wrapped his arms around Johnny’s waist. “Unfortunately, some of us have to take the ferry to the Statue of Liberty.”

“You picked this place,” Johnny laughed. “I would’ve picked the apartment.”

“And lead them straight home?” Peter said. “Speaking of, I think we’re gonna have to lay low for a bit.”

“How long?”

“Until the steam cools down,” Peter said. “Or until the Avengers find a new target. Good news is you don’t have to quit anymore.”

“Bad news?”

“You’re stuck with me.”

“I don’t think that’s bad news,” Johnny laughed. “So our Fisk plans are pushed off?”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “I guess we get to try normal for a couple of days.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Johnny said, nipping at Peter’s lips. “I know of something we could do.”

Peter smirked, pressing a kiss against Johnny’s lips. “Don’t tempt me too much, or I’ll take you right here.”

“We got time to kill, don’t we?”

Peter hummed, running his thumb against Johnny’s jaw. “You’re just too good to pass up, hot stuff.”

He titled Johnny’s chin up, bringing his lips to his own.

“You should probably move,” Peter said, moving his lips to press kisses against Johnny’s jaw. “If they want you, they’re going to be surveilling the Baxter Building.”

“Move where?” Johnny asked, extending his neck for Peter. “I’ve never … I’ve never lived on my own. Other than at the Baxter Building.”

“Move in with me,” Peter said, pressing a gentle kiss against Johnny’s neck. “I’m the reason you have to go into hiding. Plus,” Peter picked Johnny up by his hips, pinning him against the torch, pulling a gasp from his lips. “I can have you whenever I want.”

“I’d love to,” Johnny breathed. He cupped Peter’s jaw, running his thumb over Peter’s cheek. “I’d really, _really_ love to.”

“We might look for a new apartment though,” Peter said. “If they’re onto you, then they’re onto that hot scientist from Horizon labs, and once they call Modell, they’ll figure out he had something to hide.”

“Shit, I forgot to break up with him,” Johnny said, wrapping his legs around Peter’s waist. “Do you think he got the message?”

“Oh, I think he got it alright,” Peter pressed a kiss against the base of Johnny’s neck. “My only requirements for a new apartment are —“ he extended his left hand and counted with each point “— at least on the fifth floor, a full bathroom that’s not split up across the apartment, a bedroom that can fit _your_ bed —“

“My bed?” Johnny laughed, tangling his fingers in Peter’s hair. “We’d have to try to get it out of the Baxter Building.”

“You’re forgetting one key factor,” Peter pressed a kiss against Johnny’s skin. “You’re dating a super villain thief.”

“Right,” Johnny laughed. “How could I forget?”

“And _I’m_ dating one of Avengers’ most wanted.”

“That’s _you_ ,” Johnny laughed. “They’re just keeping me under –“ Johnny moaned as Peter nipped at his collar bone, sucking gently.

“Keeping you under what?” Peter asked, pressing a gentler kiss against Johnny’s skin.

“Under you,” Johnny breathed. He tugged lightly on Peter’s hair, tangling his fingers. “Keep going.”

“I thought so.”

* * *

When Peter said that they needed to lie low, Johnny assumed the both of them. But apparently, Peter Parker, who wasn’t wanted by the Avengers, could leave the apartment. And the Spider-Man, who _was_ wanted by the Avengers, could leave the apartment because he wasn’t a bright glowing beacon. Johnny, on the other hand, was under house arrest.

For the most part, their time spent under the radar felt as normal as they could get. Johnny could get used to waking up curled against Peter’s body. He could get used to Peter’s shop talk, as Johnny made them breakfast. He loved it, actually. The way Peter got so caught up in his information, re-reading the documents that they stolen a few days before to make sure he didn’t miss anything that could help them. Sometimes, it felt like Johnny had to physically pull him away from the laptop to get him to take a break.

Peter quit his job. He told Modell that he had found something else, but he knew Modell would have questions as soon as S.H.I.E.L.D. stepped into the lab, asking about Peter’s involvement with The Human Torch. Peter could go without a job. He had enough fall back money that he wasn’t worried.

After Peter quit his job, his errands out shrank. He went out to grab them takeout, and eventually groceries as Johnny realized they had the bare minimum at Peter’s apartment. Every so often, he would run out to look at a new apartment. He asked Felicia to find an apartment for them, and he would take a look at it, making the final call. Johnny was frustrated that he couldn’t see the apartments, complaining every time Peter stepped out of the apartment, until Peter finally threw a beanie at his face and told him to get ready to go out.

After a few stops, they finally found a one bedroom apartment in Gramercy Park that fit exactly what they wanted. It was spacious, or at least it felt spacious after living in Peter’s cramped apartment for the last few days. It was affordable as an apartment could get in New York City. The kitchen was actually useful, it was on the eighth floor, and there was no black mold in sight. It was well taken care of, and in a neighborhood where it looked like most of the trouble would come from Peter. Once they agreed on the apartment, Peter pulled the landlord aside asking about the lease. They were almost out of Johnny’s earshot. Johnny heard the landlord say something about background checks, but something Peter handed him changed his mind.

“Apartment’s yours,” the landlord said. “Let me go get you your keys, Mr. Reilly.”

As soon as the landlord stepped out of the apartment, Peter turned around to Johnny with his eyebrow raised.

“Don’t question it, hot stuff,” Peter said, putting his hands on Johnny’s hips and pulling him in. “All that matters is it’s our apartment.”

Within three days they were already moved in. They only thing needed to be moved over was Johnny’s items from the Baxter Building. Peter had snuck over and picked up some of his clothes, but the bed was going to take some effort to retrieve.

Another three days, and the Avengers found someone else to follow. Some supervillain broke out from the Raft, claiming he was going to destroy the Upper East Side. Johnny was cleared to go back out, within reason.

“I think we should celebrate,” Peter said.

“Yeah?” Johnny asked. “What are you thinking?”

“Well,” Peter said, wrapping his arms around Johnny’s waist. He nipped at Johnny’s lips. “I think you need some practice.”

“Practice?” Johnny asked raising an eyebrow. “On _what_?”

“Thieving,” Peter said. “If you’re coming with Cat and I on our Fisk plans, you’ll need a little bit of sneaking practice.”

“You just want me in my suit,” Johnny laughed. He was a little hesitant to commit a robbery. He was okay with Peter committing crimes, but he didn’t want to. The Fisk situation was different — Fisk was corrupt and Johnny wanted to make sure Peter wasn’t diving head first into a pool of stupidity. “What do you got planned?”

“Champagne.”

“You want us to rob a liquor store?” Johnny laughed.

“No, think bigger,” Peter said. “There’s this French restaurant in Midtown that has champagne for $2,000 a bottle. It will be easy.”

“I don’t know,” Johnny said.

“Nobody will get hurt,” Peter assured. “We’re in and out. Go in through the back door, down the wine cellar and pick up the champagne.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” Peter said. “It will be worth it.”

“Better be damn good champagne,” Johnny said.

The restaurant closed at 9 pm, but they would need to wait for staff to finish closing up for the evening **.** The Spider-Man and the Human Torch slowly travelled down to Midtown, killing time as they approached the restaurant. Peter wanted Johnny to work on moving through the city without getting caught. Johnny’s bright flames leaving a small trail behind him was going to get him in trouble one day — especially if the Avengers turn their attention back onto him. They worked on Johnny sneaking around, hiding in the shadows and having quick quiet steps across the rooftops. Peter had Johnny try traveling in bursts rather than flying throughout New York City.

Once they were close, they waited across the street, staking out the restaurant. As soon as the main lights went off in the restaurant, Peter and Johnny moved into action. Peter jumped off the rooftop, landing on the other. Johnny took a deep breath before trying his new technique. He pushed off the roof top a step too early, flaming on for a quick moment, enough to help him get a good lift up and over the street. He landed on the other rooftop a step past graceful, but he landed.

“There you go hot stuff,” Peter reached down and helped Johnny up. “A few more of those and you’ll be undetectable.”

“I wasn’t expecting to do parkour,” Johnny laughed.

Peter caught him by his hip and snuck a quick kiss through his mask. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Peter pulled away from Johnny and stepped towards the skylight. He opened it slowly, he signaled to Johnny to wait as he crawled in. He stuck to the ceiling. The top floor was a skylit event hall, tables lined the room, with a spot near the west end for a small stage set up for a speaker or the host. Peter scanned the room, quickly finding the cameras in each corner. He shot webs, covering their sight. He dropped down onto the floor, signaling for Johnny to follow.

Johnny jumped down, catching his balance on the balls of his feet before straightening up. Peter hummed happily, pressing his hand against Johnny’s stomach before grabbing his hand and leading him to the hall and down the stairwell.

“The cellar’s access is through the kitchen,” Peter said. “There should be an access door at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Have you been here before?” Johnny asked.

“Cat helped me plan this,” Peter said honestly. “I told her I wanted to do something special and she suggested it.”

“So _she_ wanted me to practice,” Johnny laughed. Peter stopped in place, turning around to face Johnny. He hummed slightly, as if he was deciding what to say.

“She wasn’t too happy that you’re coming with,” Peter said. “She said you’re too inexperienced.”

“Me? Inexperienced?” Johnny said, furrowing his brow. “I’m not inexperienced.”

“You’re experienced in being _good_ ,” Peter corrected. “She’s afraid that you’re not going to be able to pull the trigger if it’s necessary.”

Johnny opened his mouth to argue, but sounds of someone entering the stairwell stopped him short. Peter pulled Johnny to the nearest floor, and pushed through the door. He led Johnny into a cleaning closet, waiting for the footsteps to pass.

The door to their floor opened.

“You hear Giovanni got promoted?” A voice said, walking by the closet.

“By who?” A second asked, a little surprised. “By _Kingpin_?”

“Who else, numbnut?”

Peter shot Johnny a look. Something that said ‘I have to investigate’ and ‘stay put’. Peter ziplined to the ceiling and popped into the vent to follow the two thugs, leaving Johnny behind. Johnny huffed. He’s not a damsel in distress. He can handle being sneaky too.

Johnny jumped, flaming on to give him enough air and momentum to reach the vent, pulling himself into it. He followed the vent, quickly catching up to Peter and the two Fisk henchmen. It took Peter a moment before he turned his head and glared at Johnny. He clearly wasn’t expecting Johnny to follow him. He hushed Johnny, putting a finger to his lips as they listened below.

“So he gets one cop to leave us alone and he gets put in charge of the bar?” The second voice complained. “He ain’t even been here that long.”

“He got the boss’s trust,” the first explained. “He proved that he could handle the Flatiron Room.”

“I still think it’s bullshit. All he does is drink half the time.” Their voices travelled down the hall.

“I need you to back up,” Peter hushed. “There’s not enough room to turn around.”

“They’re out of the hall,” Johnny whispered back. “Just jump down.”

“Back up,” Peter griped.

“What was that?” One of the voices returned to the hallway. Peter shot a glare back at Johnny. Johnny raised his hands in self defense. Johnny slowly started to snake his way back through the vent. His foot caught on something, he tried to move it but part of the material was snagged.

“Torch,” Peter whispered.

Johnny shot him a look that said ‘I’m trying.’ Johnny yanked his foot, opening the vent. Johnny felt his foot fall through the vent opening. He lost his grip and fell into the hallway.

“There!” One of the guards yelled, pointing towards Johnny. Johnny pushed himself up, steadying himself. He waited for the men to get closer for a better strike.

Peter pushed through another vent, swinging down to knock into one of the guards, knocking him down. The standing guard jumped, aiming his gun at Peter. Johnny pushed off the ground and ignited. He lunged at the guard, knocking him down. He grabbed the guard’s wrist, lighting his hand on fire. The guard dropped the gun, screaming in pain — quickly muffled by webs.

“Quietly, Torch,” Peter said. He webbed the guards up, gesturing to the closet. Johnny opened the door. Peter threw the men in there. 

“What were they doing here,” Johnny asked as Peter webbed the knob, giving them a few extra minutes.

“Fisk must own the restaurant,” Peter said. Peter looked at Johnny, a question at his tongue. He wanted to to looking around. He wanted to see if he could find something to help him. But they were here with a goal. “Champagne?”

“Champagne,” Johnny agreed. Peter tugged on Johnny’s arm, pulling him back to the stairway and down the stairs. They arrived at the kitchen, peaking in before entering. Peter was straight forward, bee lining for the cellar door. Johnny took his time, glancing around the kitchen. “So this is what a Michelin Star kitchen looks like.”

“No animated rats here,” Peter quickly joked before returning to a more serious tone. “Come on.”

They snuck down the stairs to the cellar. The liquor cellar was lined wall to wall with bottles. Peter started to go through, searching for the expensive champagne. Johnny looked at some of the other bottles. “Should we grab something for The Black Cat?”

“I think she likes Rosé,” Peter suggested. Peter found the bottle they were looking for — Krug Clos d’Ambonnay. He pulled the wooden box off the shelf, gently opening the box to confirm the brand new bottle. He smirked, closing the box. He turned to Johnny, who stood intently in front of the rosés, searching for the perfect bottle for Felicia. Peter snuck behind Johnny, pushing the box of champagne into his arms and wrapped his own around Johnny’s waist. Peter rolled his mask up to his nose, and pressed a kiss against Johnny’s neck. “Just pick the prettiest bottle,” Peter said against his skin. “She won’t mind.”

“I know that’s a lie,” Johnny laughed. He picked up a bottle of AIX rosé, turning around to hand it to Peter. “Here.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, squeezing Johnny’s hips. “My hands are full.”

Johnny wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck, holding a bottle in each hand. He threw his head back laughing, buzzing with adrenaline. Something about this — about being with Peter like this — felt so freeing. Peter pressed a kiss against the base of Johnny’s neck. “You’re beautiful, Johnny,” he caught Johnny’s bottom lip between his own. He lead him backwards, bumping into the wine shelf. A bottle fell off, shattering as it hit the ground.

“Do you — think that was expensive?” Johnny asked, in between kisses. Peter reached up with one hand, knocking down three more bottles.

“I hope those were,” Peter smirked. Johnny laughed. He brought his hand back to Johnny’s hip. “Let’s go,” he squeezed Johnny’s hips. “Right here.”

“Right _here_?” Johnny raised an eyebrow. “We’re going to get caught.”

“We’re not going to get caught,” Peter said. He crashed his lips back into Johnny’s. He squeezed his hips one last time before picking him up and pushing him against the wine shelf. Johnny gasped, wrapping his legs around Peter’s waist. Before he could even worry about the wine, he felt the shelf behind him move. Peter quickly moved his hand to Johnny’s back to stabilize him, and stepped back from the wine shelf, now exposing a secret hallway. Johnny dropped down from Peter, catching his gaze.

“Pete.”

“I’m not saying we should go in there,” Peter said, pulling his mask back down. “But nobody honest has a secret room.”

“I hate that you’re right,” Johnny sighed. “Let’s go look.”

The hallway was long, it must have ran underneath the building to the west. Halfway down, there were several rooms. Peter stopped at one and opened the door slowly. He turn on the light, stopping in place.

“Holy shit.”

Bundles of money on wood pallets surrounded the room, divided by 10, 20, 50 and 100 dollar bills. Each pallet was three feet tall and Saran wrapped tightly. Peter ran his hand over the top of one, slowly dragging his fingers over, looking at every detail.

“Peter,” Johnny said, his voice low. “Is this … the money you’re looking for?”

“No,” Peter said, pulling out a bundle of 20s. He flipped through, nodding gently. “These are the counterfeits.”

“So what? They pick them up here, launder them, and Fisk deposits the clean money?” Johnny asked, shifting the wine bottles to one arm to take the bundle of money from Peter to inspect. “So what stops us from taking this?”

“Because laundering thousands of dollars is a headache and a half,” Peter said. “Most places check bills over 20.”

“So we take a handful of 10s,” Johnny suggested. “We don’t have to launder it. We can just use it to buy stuff. Nobody’s going to check every single bill they get.”

Peter tightened his jaw, deciding whether or not it would be worth it. “Okay,” Peter nodded. “Open the champagne box, we’ll put a couple in there.”

Johnny handed Peter the bundle of money back, and opened the box. Peter put the stack of 20s in the box, and grabbed a few more 10s. He packed the money around the bottle, as if he was concerned the bottle wouldn’t make it through the trip back home. Once the last bundle was in the box, Johnny shut the lid, making sure it closed perfectly. Peter snuck a masked kiss from Johnny. He shot a small web around the box, to secure it.

“Let’s go,” Peter said, stepping back into the hallway.

“So you were going to fuck me in the wine cellar but not going to offer it in a room full of money?”

Peter stopped in his steps. He held onto the door frame, almost as if he was trying not to give in to his desires. They were pushing their luck.

But how often would he get the chance to fuck Johnny on a pile of money?

Hell with it, nobody would catch them.

He shut the door behind him, scooping Johnny up and sat him on a pallet of money. Johnny set the wooden box and the bottle next to him, wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck. He rolled Peter’s mask up, crashing their lips together. Peter ran his hand up and down Johnny’s thigh, stopping midway squeezing gently. He nipped at Johnny’s bottom lip and deepened their kiss. Johnny tangled his fingers in the nape of Peter’s hair, just barely under the edge mask. Johnny hooked his legs behind Peter. Peter hooked his fingers into the waistband of Johnny’s pants and pulled Johnny forward. Johnny’s hip hit the loose bottle of wine, knocking it on the ground with a crash.

Shivers ran down Peter’s back.

“Shit,” Johnny laughed, his mouth quickly covered by Peter’s hand.

Peter’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, speaking words Johnny dreaded. “We’re not alone.”

Peter held his hand against Johnny’s mouth, using the other to pull his mask down. Peter could hear heavy footsteps approaching.

“I’m tell ya, I heard something,” a voice said, coming from down the hall. “You sure you locked up for the night?”

“Sure did,” another voice said. “Did you hear from Paulie or Vinny?”

“No, they were supposed to be down here half hour ago,” the first voice said. “Go look for them.”

Footsteps approached the front of the hall.

“Alex, we got company!” The second man shouted, right outside the door. “The wall’s open! There’s a mess out here!”

Peter swore under his breath. He gave a squeeze to Johnny’s thigh, something to say ‘fun’s over, pretty boy,’ but it almost felt as if the fun was about to begin. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against Johnny’s. There were two ways they could handle this. They could sneak through the vent, attempting to work their way to the, hopefully emptied, cellar and go up from there. Or they could fight their way out. There were only two men now, one that they really had to worry about. They could handle this. Peter could even handle it on his own.

Peter went to the door, waiting for the moment to strike. As soon as he heard the foot steps stop outside the door, he swung it open, grabbing the man and slammed him to the ground. He grabbed the man and threw him against the wall — webbing him in place.

“Come on, Torch,” Peter handed Johnny the boxed champagne. He grabbed him by his hips and helped him down from the pallet of counterfeits. “Let’s go.”

“Seb!”

Peter stepped into the hall, shooting a web at the other thug, and yanking the man towards him. Peter laid his fist into the man’s jaw, and slammed him into the wall.

“I need backup!” The man grunted. “It’s the Spider-Man!”

“I already got your backup,” Peter taunted, he slammed him into the opposite wall and webbed him up. He grabbed Johnny’s arm, pulling him out of the room and gave a light shove. “Come on —“

“There!” Another voice down the hall shouted. “Get them alive — Kingpin said he would handle them himself!”

“Go!” Peter said, pushing Johnny. They took off running down the hall, Peter throwing web bombs behind them to try to stop Kingpin’s men. As soon as they made it to the cellar steps, Johnny stopped.

“Wait!” He said, shoving the champagne box into Peter’s arm and pushed past him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Peter shouted. “We gotta go!”

“I got to get wine for Cat,” Johnny said. “Her bottle broke.”

“You’re an idiot,” Peter said, chasing Johnny back into the cellar. Johnny grabbed a bottle quickly as Peter yanked him back to the stairs. “You got one, let’s go.”

“Not so fast,” a thug blocked the top of the stairs. “You’re out numbered. Might as well give up without a fight.”

“Fat chance,” Peter said. He shot a web, grabbing the man and yanking him down. He threw the thug against a shelf, knocking it down with a crash. Peter and Johnny ran up the stairs into the kitchen, stopping at the top. Five men all lined up in the kitchen, guns pointing at the two. “On my count,” Peter whispered.

“Put down the wine,” the center thug said. “Hands up!”

“One,” Peter said, setting the wooden box down on the floor. Johnny followed his example, putting the wine down by his feet. “Two —“

“Hands up!”

Peter put his hands in the air. “Three!”

He shot a web, yanking the gun from the center man’s grip. Johnny ducked, as the other thugs started to shoot. He crouched, pushing off the ground with a fire blast, tackling the fifth man in their line. He knocked the gun from his hand, turning his attention to the four men next to him. Three of them shot at Peter — missing as Peter dodged out of the way. Peter webbed one thug, yanking him forward into his grip. Johnny lifted his palm and sent a fire blast to the remaining thugs, pushing them into one another. The thug he tackled got up and grabbed him, pulling his arms back, trying to control Johnny.

Johnny used his body weight, slamming the guy into the shelves behind him. Dishes crashed around them. The guy held on. “I tried warning you,” Johnny said. He flamed on. Instantly realizing his mistake, the guy tried letting go. Johnny slammed him into the shelf again, knocking the guy to the ground.

Peter laid punch after punch into the first guy before catching the sight of Johnny’s fire. He smirked, feeling prideful watching Johnny fight. “You should be thankful that I’m trying to be on my best behavior,” Peter laughed, laying one final blow into the man before tossing him down the stairs into the wine cellar. He turned back to the three men on the ground, getting up from the fire blast and their attentions focused on Johnny. Peter shot several web pellets to two of the three men, webbing them up. He shot single lines to them both, pulling them forward. “You got one more, Torch,” he called as Johnny knocked one of the thugs to the ground. He focused his attention to the webbed thugs, struggling to get out of his grip. “You know, my webs are fire retardant. Downside is that means you get to deal with me.”

Peter turned his arm, grabbing the webs of one goon and brought him full force into his knee, dropping him to the ground. He grabbed the other guy by the webs on the front of his chest, and flipped over him, slamming him into the floor. He turned back to the first thug. He shot a webline at him and threw him across the kitchen. He turned his attention back to Johnny.

Johnny could handle himself in a fight. That’s what he’s always done before. But anytime Peter thinks Johnny is remotely in danger, his thoughts go to Doc Ock at Oscorp with his metal claw around Johnny’s neck. He remembers how quickly Johnny’s flames extinguished as he struggled to breathe. He remembered how quickly he was washed over with anger, how all he could think about was Octavius _touching_ Johnny and that was enough to set him off. That’s when he knew they were over. That Peter wouldn’t be able to handle Johnny when he was in danger. That Peter was willing to kill for Johnny. And Johnny couldn’t support that. Not as a hero. So Peter had to leave. They couldn’t work out together. They weren’t supposed to be together.

A part of Peter wondered if they weren’t going to be able to work things through this time. That something bad is going to happen and Johnny’s going to leave. Johnny is still good natured. What’s going to happen if Peter hurts someone Johnny cares about? Johnny says he will still love him, but Peter’s afraid of putting that to the test.

“Spidey.”

Peter snapped his attention back to Johnny. “Yeah?”

“You good to go?” Johnny had knocked the last guy out, and had been waiting for Peter to get going.

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter said, picking up the wine bottle and throwing it at Johnny. Johnny caught it, laughing. Peter picked up the champagne box, feeling shivers running down his back. He looked up, catching a glimpse of a man behind Johnny.

“Johnny! Look out —“

Johnny flamed on before the man could touch him. He threw himself away from the thug, quickly blasting fire at him. Before he realized it was a bad idea, the gas stoves behind the thug, just barely burning, caught Johnny’s fire. The flames erupted, covering the wall behind him.

“Come on,” Peter grabbed Johnny leading him into the stairwell.

“I should —“

“You _shouldn’t_ ,” Peter said, letting go of Johnny. “They’re fine. They’re all adults.”

“But that’s my fault—“

“They’re criminals, they shouldn’t be here,” Peter snapped, leading Johnny back into the event hall. “Let the fire department handle it.”

Before Johnny could act, Peter wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him in. Peter raised his free wrist, shooting a webline to the open skylight pulling them up. “Pete —“

“You can go back if you want,” Peter said, letting go of Johnny. “You put out the fire, then what? They catch you? Police arrest you? S.H.I.E.L.D. get involved?”

Johnny clenched his jaw. He could hear the fire crackling below. The fire has gotten big. Soon it may take up the entire building. He could hear sirens in the distance. He thought of the men downstairs, whether or not they would be able to get out in time. But Peter was right. They were committing crimes, just because he does something heroic doesn’t mean the authorities wouldn’t come after him.

“Torch,” Peter said, bringing Johnny back to Earth. Peter stepped to the ledge of the building. “We need to go.”

Johnny nodded, almost hesitantly. “Okay,” he said, taking a step towards Peter. “Okay.”

The rooftop access door swung open. Three new thugs popped out, guns rising to aim at the two men. “There!”

“Go!” Peter grabbed Johnny’s arm and pulling him in. He wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled them both off the buildings rooftop, falling towards the ground. Peter extended his arm and shot out a webline and swung them up midtown. Johnny gasped in shock, wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck. His gasp quickly turned into laughter, once he realize that they were swinging through the city. Once they were far enough from the restaurant, Peter set Johnny down on a rooftop. “Come on, Hot Stuff,” Peter said, stepping off the ledge. “Keep up!”

Peter swung to the next rooftop, slinging himself into the air. “Show off!” Johnny laughed, leaping off the rooftop, working on short bursts of flames as he leaped from building to building, working on speed to catch up with Peter. And for a while, he did good keeping up. But there was a slight moment when he missed a jump, tripping over the edge and falling down. He ignited out of habit, flying out of the alleyway laughing as he passed Peter. “Keep up, Webhead!” He called as he flew faster.

They weaved through New York City all the way back to their apartment. Johnny landed first, flying through the window and landing on the ground completely extinguished. Peter swung in not more than a moment after him. Peter’s feet barely touched the ground before he was ripping his mask off, throwing it in the vague vicinity of the couch. He lazily set the wooden box on the side table as he wrapped his arm around Johnny’s waist, pulling him in close. “That was exhilarating.”

“Yeah, if that’s what you want to call it,” Johnny laughed, almost out of breath. “Anxiety inducing.”

“Adrenaline pumping,” Peter said. He grinned and laughed. “You did it!” He picked Johnny up in his arms, spinning him. “Hero’s first felony.”

“Stop!” Johnny laughed. He wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck, wine bottle still in hand. He hated to admit it, but he actually enjoyed it. Peter was right, he had adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “Before the neighbors hear.”

“I’m so proud of you, Hot Stuff,” Peter said, leaning in to kiss Johnny, gentle and soft. He ran his hands down Johnny’s side, resting them on his hips. He broke from the kiss and admired Johnny. Peter brought a hand up to his cheek. Johnny was glowing. Glowing with adrenaline – glowing with happiness. Peter brought his hand down Johnny’s arm, his glance followed. Peter has teased Johnny about his suit since he first laid sight on it. It was very different than the previous blue number. His chest, once branded with the number four, now displays a single flame, as if Peter had to be reminded of Johnny’s heat. A warning – not for danger, but for his passion. The black and yellow panels brought Peter’s eyes down Johnny’s torso, stopping at his waist. Peter smirked, bringing his attention back to Johnny’s face.

Peter squeezed Johnny’s hips and kissed Johnny. He picked Johnny up by his hips, carrying him across the apartment. Johnny gasped, laughing. He wrapped his legs around Peter’s waist as Peter dropped both of them on the couch. Johnny moved to set the wine bottle down on the ground, letting go of it once he felt the floor beneath it, and like a magnet, his hand found its way back to Peter’s hair. Peter caught Johnny’s bottom lip with his own, before kissing him harder. Johnny racked his fingers against Peter’s scalp, pulling a deep moan from Peter’s chest “We should —“

“Move to the bedroom,” Johnny agreed, running this thumb over Peter’s cheek.

Peter scooped Johnny up in a fit of laughter and carried him into the bedroom, dropping him on the bed. He crawled on top of him, straddling his hips. Peter raised his hands to his face, using his thumbs and index fingers to create a view finder, looking at Johnny. He wished his camera was within arms reach. Johnny was gorgeous.

He was always gorgeous.

Johnny laid on top of the unmade, white duvet waiting for Peter to come back and kiss him. His black and gold suit once a sign of heroism, now stained with crimes, almost glowed. Or maybe that was Johnny. His breathing was shallow, as if he was still trying to catch his breath from their trip back. He ran his fingers through his golden locks, brushing them out of his face.

“Take a picture,” Johnny said, with a breathy laugh. “It will last longer.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Peter said, leaning in to catch Johnny’s lips with his own. He ran his hand up Johnny’s side, his fingers dragging along his suit. He found the seam between his pants and his shirt sliding his hand underneath his shirt and along this ribs. “I need you out of this, Hot Stuff,” Peter said between kisses. “I need all of you.”

“Yeah,” Johnny breathed. Peter leaned off of Johnny slightly as he worked his shirt off. Peter leaned back as he took his own shirt off, catching Johnny’s lips as soon as the top of his suit was off.

He guided Johnny back into the pillows, straddling over him. He ran his hand down Johnny’s bare chest, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his pants. With one swift movement, he pulled Johnny’s hips up, yanking his pants halfway down his thighs. Johnny gasped, not expecting to be pulled inches off the bed. He laughed, wrapping his arms around Peter’s shoulders. Peter buried his kisses against Johnny’s neck.

“That was hot,” Johnny breathed against Peter’s ear. Peter playfully bit Johnny’s neck, pulling a moan from Johnny, quickly soothing the mark with his tongue.

“Speaking of hot,” Peter said, pressing one last kiss against his neck as he pulled himself off of Johnny. He pulled Johnny’s pants off completely, leaving Johnny exposed on his bed. “I need these off of you.”

Johnny watched as Peter’s eyes moved down his body, slowly starting from his face down his chest and stopping at his waist, almost hungry for him. “You just going to look at me or –“

“I’m taking you in,” Peter breathed. “You’re gorgeous, Hot Stuff, let me admire you for a minute.”

“Admiring me isn’t going to get me off,” Johnny pouted. “I mean, it’s nice but it’s not going to make me –“

Johnny’s words were lost in a moan as Peter took his cock in his hand, stroking slowly. “Make you what, Johnny?”

“Pete –“ Johnny pleaded, as Peter picked up the pace. He tried to move his hips, trying to fuck Peter’s hand, but Peter’s strong grip on his hips kept him at his will.

“Make you _what_.”

“Come,” Johnny breathed.

Peter gave one final stroke to Johnny’s cock before leaning up and working off his own pants. Johnny watched as Peter’s hard cock twitched impatiently. “Knees up.”

Johnny obeyed, bringing his knees up, leaning into the pile of pillows. Peter rubbed a circle with his thumb against Johnny’s knee, pressing a kiss against his thigh. He placed kisses down Johnny’s thigh until he reached his groin. He gave a squeeze to Johnny’s thigh before bringing his hand down to Johnny’s hole. He looked up at Johnny, almost asking permission.

“Please,” Johnny nodded. “Peter, please.”

Peter’s touch was gentle as he eased into Johnny, starting slowly with his thumb. He then eased in with a finger, then moving to two, slowly working Johnny open.

“Pete –“ Johnny’s breath hitched.

“Patience, Pretty Boy,” Peter purred, knowing the exact spot he was hitting. He slowed his movement, making sure to pay special attention to the moan leaving Johnny’s lips. “You are beautiful,” Peter pressed a kiss against Johnny’s thigh. “Gorgeous.”

“Peter,” Johnny arched his back with Peter’s touch. “I need – I need you.”

“Need me to _what_ , Pretty Boy?” Peter introduced a third finger, beckoning Johnny to tell him exactly what he needed.

“Fuck me,” Johnny moaned. “Fuck me, Peter.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he pulled out his fingers. Johnny let out a soft whimper at the lack of pressure. Peter pressed one last kiss against Johnny’s thigh before moving over Johnny. He slowly teased the tip of his cock against Johnny’s hole, then eased himself in. He leaned down, catching Johnny’s lips in a soft kiss before pulling himself out, and thrusting back in. Johnny moaned, wrapping his legs around Peter’s waist, angling himself for a better touch.

Johnny couldn’t help but to think of years ago when Peter would fuck him. How he used to be afraid of whether Peter would still be there in the morning. Or if he would wake up to a headline of the newest death in the spider tracer murders. Or if they were discovered and their little façade would have to end. Johnny learned to treasure every night they spent together as if it was their last.

Now he could look up at Peter, instantly feeling intoxicated. There wasn’t anything keeping them apart. He moved his hand to cup Peter’s cheek. Peter instinctively turned his head, pressing a kiss against Johnny’s palm.

“You’re perfect, Johnny,” Peter murmured, thrusting himself deeper into Johnny. Johnny threw his head back, moaning. “You are so good to me.”

Johnny led Peter’s jaw back to him, catching his lips. Peter racked his teeth against Johnny’s bottom lip, moving his kisses against Johnny’s jaw and to his neck. “Harder,” Johnny croaked, his voice lost in the pleasure. He spoke up, a little louder. “Harder. Please, Peter. Harder.”

“As you wish,” he buried a kiss into Johnny’s neck, as he thrusted harder. He picked up the pace, keeping his thrusts hard. Johnny kept one hand tangled in Peter’s hair, dragging the other against Peter’s shoulder. He gave another hard thrust, Johnny threw his head back moaning. Peter pressed a kiss against the base of Johnny’s exposed neck. “I love you, Pretty Boy.”

Johnny’s voice was lost in his orgasm, Peter moving his hand to Johnny’s cock to stroke him through. Peter thrusts became more rhythmic, going faster and harder. His mouth against Johnny’s neck, pressing hot kisses against his skin. Johnny could feel his body fill with ecstasy as Peter came, moaning out Johnny’s name.

He slowly pulled himself out, and collapsed on top of Johnny. Johnny threw his arms around Peter’s shoulder, burying his face into his neck. “I love you, Peter,” Johnny breathed, running a hand down Peter’s back. “I love you.”

* * *

Johnny ran his hand through his hair, taking in the cool breeze as he walked through the park. Peter needed to run by the Bugle — quit his job and still found more work to do. A quick errand, he promised with a kiss.

“I think I’m gonna go out for a walk,” Johnny said to Peter when he was almost halfway out the door. “Maybe for a coffee or something. Just to get out.”

Peter looked like if he was tossing around the idea. Wanting Johnny to stay safe and out of harm’s way. But he knew Johnny can’t be locked in the apartment day after day. The Avengers found a new target, and as long as Johnny laid low, they had nothing to worry about. “Be safe,” he said. “Call me if you need me.”

“I’m just going to the park,” Johnny laughed. “It will be fine.”

“Okay,” Peter nodded, still hesitant. “Don’t get supper, I have that planned for us. I’ll catch you later, Sunshine.”

He held his iced latte in his hand enjoying the sun rays at the park. He needed to convince Peter to come out with him next time. He loved being able to spend time with Peter and not being afraid anymore. Not being afraid of what his family thinks. Not being afraid of the rumors he’s heard of the Spider-Man. Not being afraid that he would have to leave Peter. If Johnny had his way, they would never be apart for more than a couple of hours. And Johnny was going to do everything he could to make sure it was possible.

“Hey Matchstick!”

Johnny swore under his breath. Not here. Not now. He kept walking.

“Matchstick!”

If he didn’t pay attention, maybe Ben would leave him alone.

“Johnny!”

Johnny stopped and turned around. “What?”

“You left the Avengers?” Ben asked.

“If you’re asking, I think you already know the answer,” Johnny said, turning away from him. Ben grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

“Bobby says you’re messing with him again,” Ben said.

“I’m not messing with Bobby.”

“Not him, your ex,” Ben said. “You know that ain’t a good idea.”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” Johnny said, yanking his arm from his grip. “I really don’t care about talking about anything with you.”

“I’m just worried about ya, Matchstick,” Ben said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You sure have a funny way showing it,” Johnny snapped. “Where have you been?”

“Torch —“

“No, you don’t get to ‘Torch’ me,” Johnny stepped closer to Ben. His temperature rose. “When was the last time I’ve seen you?” Ben opened and closed his mouth, his jaw tightened. He knew the answer. “It’s been months, Ben. You haven’t been there for me.”

“You’re making a scene, kid—“

“ _You_ left me! _He’s_ been there for me,” Johnny said, feeling his raw emotions start to overcome him. Tears welled in his eyes. “It’s only been a few weeks and I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while.”

“He’s no good,” Ben raised his voice. “You know that. You remember what was goin’ on with him. Don’t ruin yourself for him.”

“Don’t act like you know,” Johnny snapped. He started to walk away from Ben. He angrily waved him off. “Just stop. Leave me alone like you have for the past year.”

“I’m your family,” Ben followed him. “Listen to me when I say that he’s no good —“

“You stopped being family after Reed and Sue left,” Johnny yelled. “Or when you stopped coming to the Baxter Building. Or when you stopped talking to me. _You_ stopped being my family.”

“Johnny —“

“You don’t get it, Ben,” Johnny stopped and turned to Ben. “This year has been rough, I get that. But it’s been rough for me too. And I needed you, and you weren’t there.”

Ben opened his mouth to talk, but Johnny continued.

“All year long I was in and out that lab,” Johnny said, his voice hitched. “That damn lab that took them from us, trying to figure out what I needed to do to bring them back. But I couldn’t do it Ben. And you weren’t there to help me.”

“Johnny —“

“Did you know that Octavius was going to kill me that day?” Ben closed his mouth. Johnny’s tone softened. “He saved me. _The Spider-Man_ saved me. Ben, we used to put our lives at risk every day and _that_ was the first day that I thought I was going to die. He could’ve let me died. If he really didn’t care — if I was nothing but a toy to him — he would’ve let me die.”

“Johnny,” Ben said, reaching out to pull Johnny in for a hug. Johnny shook his head and stepped backwards.

“If _you_ cared,” Johnny said. “You wouldn’t have left me alone. For all I care, he’s my family now. I’ll talk to you later, Ben.”

Johnny turned around and walked away. Maybe it was time for him to go home. He got to the park entrance before Ben yelled at him. “What would Suzie think?”

Johnny stopped in his steps. He turned around and walked back towards Ben. “I’m tired of people asking what Sue would think!” He threw his arm forward, gesturing at Ben. “What would Sue say about you abandoning me? What would Reed say?”

Ben tightened his jaw, pondering a moment. “That I’m a lousy brother,” he said almost under his breath.

“Yeah,” Johnny breathed. Johnny waved Ben off, needing to get him as far away as possible. “You are. You can have the Baxter Building. I moved out.”

Before Ben could even argue, Johnny flamed on and bolted out, flying as fast as he could. Johnny could feel his flames burn hotter with anger. He flew between buildings and through neighborhoods, keeping the distance between him, the park and home far and tangled. He could feel the frustration build up inside of him. He got everything off his chest, every little thing that’s been bugging him out in the open. So why does he still feel upset?

He landed on the fire escape, feeling the answer burning a hole in his chest.

He never got an apology.

He pushed the window up, stepping in the apartment.

“Peter?” He called, his voice hitching.

Johnny couldn’t tell if he was glad that he was alone, or if that made everything worse. He rubbed the back of his hand over his eye, wiping any signs of frustration out as he sat on the floor in front of the window. He sighed as he pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned his head back against the window sill.

Johnny didn’t know why he expected any different. He knew as soon as Ben found out, he wouldn’t keep his opinion quiet. When he first started seeing Peter, Ben had a hunch. Ben interrogated him, trying to find the identity of the secret boyfriend, knowing he was bad news. Sue was the only one who knew his identity and that was well after they broke up. Ben had dropped the topic, but he knew it was in the back of his mind.

Johnny just didn’t expect him to still come at his throat, telling him what’s best for him, when he left him alone. Alone to his thoughts, alone to soak in the blame. He didn’t expect Ben to still try to pry information from him when he failed to be his brother.

His words played at the back of his mind, _‘He’s no good … don’t think yourself for him._ ’ Ben didn’t know Peter like Johnny did. Peter is kind. Peter means well. Peter _loved_ Johnny. And Johnny knew that.

So why did Ben’s words hurt so bad?

The sound of the lock turning startled Johnny.

The front door opened.

“Hey, lover boy,” Peter called from the entryway. Johnny quickly passed the back of his hand over his eyes, catching any tears before Peter could see them. Peter had a paper grocery bag positioned on his hip, pulling the key out of the lock. “I didn’t expect you to be home. I thought I’d cook us —“

The front door slammed shut. Peter’s soft demeanor quickly turned serious.

“Are you okay?”

Johnny nodded.

“Johnny,” Peter said a little more stern. “Are you okay?”

Johnny nodded again, quickly running his arm over his eyes to wipe away any evidence that would say otherwise.

“If you don’t say it, I’m not going to believe it.” Peter set the grocery bag on the counter and approached Johnny.

“I’m —“ Johnny felt a bubble in his throat, refusing to let him speak. “I’m —“

Peter kneeled on the ground in front of Johnny. “Don’t lie to me,” Peter said calmly, almost in his Spider voice. A tone to show that he meant business, that he wasn’t going to leave until he got an answer. He squeezed Johnny’s knee. “Something’s wrong.”

Johnny shot forward and wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck, burying his head into his shoulder. Peter instantly wrapped his arms around Johnny, holding him tight. Johnny felt the cork of his emotions pop off, tears flowing down his cheeks and he couldn’t stop it.

“I’m here, pretty boy,” Peter said softly, rubbing Johnny’s back. “I got you. I’m here.”

Johnny cried. He cried for more than he liked to admit. But Peter stayed by his side, comforting him until he was ready to talk. Once Johnny calmed down, he spoke up, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I ran into Ben. He heard about us.” Johnny could feel Peter tense up. “He abandoned me after my sister disappeared. And the only time he held a conversation with me was about you, and how I’m throwing my life away for you.”

Peter leaned back, just enough for Johnny to look at him. His jaw was tight, as if he was fighting back something. His eyes were dark, focusing on Johnny’s face. Johnny felt tears well up in his eyes. He was turned his head away from Peter, wiping the tears from his eyes. Peter squeezed Johnny’s knees, pushing away from Johnny. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Peter —“

“I’m going to find a way,” Peter said, practically fuming. If Johnny didn’t know better, he would assume he was about to burst into flames. He was halfway in his suit when he came back out of the bedroom. “He can’t treat you that way.”

“Pete —“

“I’m not going to let him talk to you like that!” Peter snapped, pacing the apartment as he pulled his suit on. “You deserve better!” 

“Peter!” Johnny grabbed Peter’s hand as he stomped by him. “I told him about that day. About Octavius.”

Peter stopped in his steps. Johnny would always be amazed of how gentle of a touch could stop Peter on a rampage. A light pull on his wrist would lead him back to Johnny.

“And it made me think,” Johnny said, his hand tight on Peter’s wrist. “That if Octavius did kill me, I wouldn’t have had to go through the time away from you, or this past year without my sister.”

“Johnny, don’t think like that —“

“But it also made me think about how if he did kill me,” Johnny continued, tugging lightly on Peter’s wrist, leading Peter to the spot he left just moments ago. Peter kneeled down in front of him. “I wouldn’t have gotten to spend time with you like this. I wouldn’t have been able to love you like I wanted to.”

Peter took Johnny’s face in his palms, running his thumbs against his cheeks. Johnny pressed held his hands against Peter’s, not wanting him to move. Peter searched Johnny’s face, trying to find the right answer. “I want you to know.” Peter’s voice was low. He sent shivers down Johnny’s spine. Peter pressed a kiss against Johnny’s forehead. “If anyone makes you cry like this again, I will kill them.”

Johnny studied Peter, trying to find a hint of exaggeration. The lines between his brow told him that he was anything but. “Not Ben,” his voice quiet. “Not him, please, Peter.”

Peter tightened his jaw. There was nothing in this world he wanted more right now than to murder Ben Grimm. The sight of seeing Johnny in tears, his body shake against his in sorrow, Peter felt anger wash over his body. Johnny wants him to forgive and forget. But there was no way Peter could do that.

There was no sense in Peter making a promise that he’s not going to try to keep.

“Come on,” Peter finally said, pressing a kiss to Johnny’s forehead. He ran his thumbs across Johnny’s cheekbones, catching any stray tears. “let’s get you cheered up. Cat said any time we want to stop by that contact, she would be ready. You want to go out tonight?”

Johnny nodded.

“Good,” Peter kissed Johnny’s forehead. “I’ll let Fel know. Let’s go shower, clean you up.”

Felicia was waiting for them when they got out of the shower. She had made herself at home, curling her hair in the front entrance’s mirror. She was wearing a fitted, mini dress with a low neckline and t-strap stilettos with lace detail. Johnny instantly felt almost embarrassingly under dressed with the towel wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Thanks for knocking, Cat,” Peter said sarcastically, running his hands through his wet hair. He leaned in, pressed a kiss against her cheek. She pushed him away, attempting to avoid getting wet. “Johnny, Felicia. Fel, Johnny.”

“Nice to meet you, officially,” she gave a smile. “I picked out your outfits for tonight, they’re on the bed.”

“Officially?” Johnny asked.

Felicia stopped curling her hair and pouted. “You don’t remember me?” She turned to face Peter, who had already made it to the bedroom to get dressed. “Spider, he doesn’t remember me!”

“Leave him alone,” Peter said, almost uninterested in her. “Is mine the black?”

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I hope you don’t mind, I went through your clothes and picked you out something to wear. I’ve seen your wardrobe. I figured you had something appropriate.” She winked. “If he wears rings, tell him to pick from my stash, and not the old things he keeps trying to put on. They’re going to clash with his outfit.”

“Okay,” Johnny nodded, walking into the bedroom. Peter was pulling his slim-fit trousers over his hips. He looked at Johnny, almost in agony. “Your stylist?”

“Unfortunately,” Peter sighed. “She’s a damn good one though.”

“I’ll say,” Johnny said, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist. He snuck a kiss from Peter. “She told me to tell you not to wear your old rings.”

“Of course she did,” Peter laughed. He kissed Johnny before pulling away to slip on his button up.

“She usually makes herself at home?” Johnny asked, picking up the clothes she set aside for him — a pair of black jeans and a light blue jean button up. On top of the clothes was a small Tiffany’s bag. There were a handful of rings, assumingly for the both of them, and a small box with a note on it. Johnny flipped open the note, ‘ _to go with your ring xo’._ A narrow gold cuff was settled in the packaging, clearly worth more than the bottle of wine he gave her. He slipped the cuff onto his wrist, admiring it. It matched the ring Peter had given him weeks ago perfectly. Peter was right, she did have good taste.

“Yeah,” Peter shrugged. “Usually through the window or unlocking the door.”

“She has a key?”

“Lockpicking,” Peter corrected. “Thief, remember?”

“Right,” Johnny said, hoping from one foot to the other to put on his jeans. “Where do I know her from?”

“From the old apartment,” Peter said, buttoning his shirt up, fully knowing Felicia will unbutton the top few for him. He fixed his sleeves. “When you stopped by.”

“When I —” Johnny’s jaw dropped when it hit him. “Your _coworker_?”

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I didn’t lie, she’s practically a coworker.”

“God, I’m embarrassed now,” Johnny laughed, buttoning his jeans. “It was embarrassing.”

“It was cute,” Peter said, putting on his shoes. “You were cute.”

“You didn’t even see me,” Johnny said, putting on his shirt. He rolled up his sleeves, just below his elbow.

“You sounded cute,” Peter corrected himself. “Hand me the rings, I want to see what she picked out for me.”

Johnny handed him the light blue bag, letting Peter dig through it to find rings that suited his needs. Johnny slipped on his shoes, listening to Peter complain about how his personal rings would go fine with his outfit, that nothing clashes with black. Johnny laughed. Peter’s eyes darted towards him, almost annoyed at first, quickly softening as he joined the laughter.

“What are you laughing at, Torch?” He asked. “It better not be me.”

“And if it is?”

Peter picked Johnny up with a yelp, dropping him on the duvet. “I’ll give your mouth something else to do,” he mumbled, before catching Johnny’s lips with his own.

“If you two are done messing around,” Felicia spoke up from the door way. Johnny quickly pushed himself up, blush crawling on his cheeks. Peter leaned back, more annoyed than embarrassed. “We got some work to do.”

“We were getting there,” Peter said, getting off of Johnny. He took Johnny’s hand and pulled him off the bed. Felicia inspected the men, fixing Peter’s sleeves, and handing Johnny a few extra gold rings to wear. Johnny caught sight of her necklace. The necklace, covered in diamonds, followed the curve of her neckline, stopping at the center of her sternum. Each diamond almost a carat in size. At the end of the necklace was a tear drop diamond, at least three times as big as the others. It had to be worth tens of thousands of dollars.

“I like your necklace,” Johnny said.

“Thanks,” Felicia grinned proudly, bringing her hand to touch it. “From Chopard’s collection at the Met.”

“Like the _Met_? The Museum?”

“Did you not tell him?” Felicia murmured to Peter.

“I said it was stolen,” Peter said. “I may have left out the Met.”

“You did,” Johnny said pointedly.

“Okay, then you may not want to wear it to the Met,” Peter suggested. Johnny rolled his eyes. “I thought you were selling that piece.”

“I said I’d consider it,” Felicia said. “I’ve handled the other pieces … most of them, at least.”

“Don’t pick up her behaviors,” Peter said, taking Johnny by his hips and leading him away from Felicia and out of the room. “She’s a bad influence.”

“Me?” Felicia laughed, following the men out of the bedroom. “Look who’s talking. I’ve never stabbed a blind lawyer.”

“Cat,” Peter hissed.

“You what?” Johnny stopped in his steps.

“He’s the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” Peter clarified. “Not just some blind lawyer.”

“Nobody can prove that,” Felicia said, pushing past Peter towards the door. “All that’s known is there’s a lawyer claiming to be stabbed by the Spider-Man.”

“And nobody can _prove_ that,” Peter extended his hand towards Johnny. Johnny took it, letting Peter pull him in. Peter wrapped his arm around Johnny’s pressing a quick kiss against his lips. Felicia rolled her eyes. “Besides, I beat his ass, I didn’t just stab him.”

“And your point?” Felicia said, annoyed. She turned her attention to Johnny. “Now you get to see what I have to put up with. Now the plan.”

The plan was simple and easy. Enter the bar, have a few drinks, maybe order some food, and pay attention to their surroundings. Have a good time. There wasn’t any plans of action. Just eyes and ears. Keep an eye out for Fisk’s men. A perfect plan to get Johnny’s mind off of Ben, and a perfect night for them to feel like a normal couple … who enjoy eavesdropping.

Felicia would enter alone. She’s sit at the bar, claiming to be waiting on friend’s while she nursed her drink and talked to the bartender. She would get her information from the bartender and the guests at the bar.

Peter and Johnny would enter later — getting off the subway a stop too late and having to backtrack through lower Manhattan to get to the bar. They’d sit at a table in the back corner of the bar, watching for any of Fisk’s men. Felicia reminded them that while Peter’s identity is unknown, almost every New Yorker knew of Johnny Storm or were familiar with his face. Johnny would need to hide as best as he could, or put on a disguise.

Felicia made the mistake of reaching up to Johnny’s hair, vaguely suggesting that he should dye it. The look Peter gave her was enough to back pedal as fast as she could. “Or a hat,” she said, pulling her hand away as if Johnny flamed on. “A hat would work perfect. Maybe some fake glasses. You know, I bet nobody would even recognize him.”

“No one will recognize him,” Peter assured. “Just worry about our friends. Johnny and I can handle ourselves.”

Felicia pressed her lips together, almost frustrated before turning her attention to Johnny, pulling her expression into a more relaxed smile. The subway pulled into a slow stop. “I think this is my stop,” she stood up, waited for the door to open. When it opened with a soft hiss, she winked at Johnny. “I’ll catch you two love birds later.”

“You know she’s right,” Johnny said as the doors shut behind Felicia, leaving her on the platform.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Peter said, wrapping his arm around Johnny.

“I’ve never hid my identity,” Johnny said, leaning into Peter. “I’ve been in the spotlight since I was 16. Most of New York knows me and what I look like and what my favorite color is.”

“Your favorite movie, your favorite drink, your childhood crush,” Peter listed. “I remember those articles.”

“You read Teen Vogue?” Johnny laughed.

“My girlfriend did,” Peter clarified. “She didn’t have a wide selection of reading material. It was either the Teen Vogue magazines or Jane Austen. And at 16, you seemed more entertaining than Elizabeth Bennet.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended,” Johnny laughed.

“I’d still pick you over her any day,” Peter said, pressing a kiss against Johnny’s temple. “We’ll cross the identity bridge when we get to it. You haven’t been in the spotlight for a while —“

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“That’s a good thing,” Peter said. “You’re not forgotten, you’re just out of sight, out of mind.”

Johnny nodded. His mind still focused on the word _girlfriend_. He knew Peter dated others before him. And he’s sure there were others in between now and five years ago. But his gut twisted in jealously when he thought of Mary Jane. “How long were you two together?” Johnny asked. “You and Mary Jane.”

“About two years,” Peter said. “In college.”

“And she was still reading Teen Vogue?”

“No — No, that wasn’t her,” Peter said. “That was … that was Gwen.”

“Gwen,” Johnny repeated. “Why does she sound familiar?”

Peter was quiet, almost as if he was deciding whether or not to answer Johnny. Peter at a lost for words almost never was a good sign. Johnny knew he must have hit a sore spot. “She was my first girlfriend,” Peter said, softly. “When I was in high school. When I first got my powers. Her dad was the police captain.”

“Gwen Stacy,” Johnny breathed. “Pete, I’m —“

“You remind me of her, you know,” Peter said. “Always trying to see the good in others. Trying to see the good in _me_.”

“It’s not hard to,” Johnny said. “You’re good to me.”

Peter gave a breathy laugh, bringing Johnny’s hand to his lips. “That’s the other part,” Peter said. “She reminds me that I need to protect you. That I need to keep you safe. I wasn’t … able to protect her. But I’m sure as hell making sure nobody ever gets to you again.”

“Peter —“

“This is our stop.” Peter pushed lightly against Johnny. “Or else Felicia will say we backed out.”

Johnny nodded, standing up and letting Peter pull him out of the subway car. Johnny remembered when Gwen died. The photo of the Spider-Man cradling her dead body was everywhere. The Daily Bugle painted him as a menace from the beginning, even when he first started out as a superhero. Johnny had always knew there was a backstory to the photo. So much more than what the media was claiming. It just didn’t make sense that the Spider-Man and Green Goblin were working together, then the Spider-Man staying behind to hold their victim’s body. Johnny felt guilty, bringing this memory back up. He hated how he felt jealous of Mary Jane, needing to feel validated, asking questions trying to find out whether Peter still loved her — only to find out one of the first deaths linked to him was his high school sweetheart.

“Quit feeling guilty,” Peter spoke up, breaking the silence of Johnny’s thoughts. “We’re out having fun, remember?”

“Is mind reading one of your powers?”

“I wish it was,” Peter laughed. “Make things a lot easier. Hey —“ he took Johnny by the hips, stopping him at the top of the stairs. “I love you. And I loved her. But you —“ he gave a squeeze to Johnny’s hips. “Are unimaginable. No one could ever replace you. You’re all I could think about. You’re all I _still_ think about. Nothing will change that.”

Johnny crashed his lips against Peter’s, wrapping his arms around his neck. Johnny could care less about the other New Yorkers pushing past them, grumbling about them being in the way. Peter brought his hand up to Johnny’s jaw, cradling him in his hand.

“Come on,” Peter mumbled, slowly pulling away from Johnny. He brushed a loose strand of hair back from Johnny’s face. “She’s really going to think we backed out.”

He took Johnny’s hand, leading him out of the stairwell and into the street. He brought Johnny’s hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against his skin, before letting go and wrapping his arm around Johnny’s waist. Peter figured that whatever he said — or did — made Johnny felt better, since Johnny started to ramble, pointing out different restaurants and bars along the way, saying that they needed to try them out. Peter hummed contently. This was something he’s longed for them. A sense of normalcy. Just a couple, on an evening out in New York City.

His little fantasy ended as soon as he saw Felicia at the bar, a martini glass in hand. Peter held the door, letting Johnny walk in first, and following him to the back of the bar to a table out of sight.

“I’ll grab us something to drink,” Peter said. “You know what you want?”

“Surprise me,” Johnny said, sitting down at the table and picked up the menu, seeing if there was anything they wanted to eat while they were here.

“Got it,” Peter winked, leaning over the table to kiss Johnny. He walked to the bar next to Felicia, he leaned over the bar counter, trying to grab the bartender’s attention.

“Don’t forget why we’re here,” She said under her voice. “Just because you two want to be cute doesn’t mean we can’t be sidetracked from our mission.”

“We’re not,” Peter said. “We’re just playing the part.”

“A little too well,” she rolled her eyes and swirled her drink. “I don’t trust him, by the way.”

“You don’t need to,” Peter griped. “I do and that’s all that matters.”

“It’s not _him_ ,” Felicia corrected. “I like him, he seems great. I think he’s great for you. I just think he’s too _good_ for this.”

“He’s not going to mess this up,” Peter said, hushed. The bartender finally came over and took Peter’s drink orders, turning around to make them. “Trust me.”

Felicia’s eyes moved from Peter to behind him, her expression going from professional to concerned in a quick moment. “I don’t think it’s him I’m worried about.”

Peter looked over his shoulder in Johnny’s direction. He felt the world stop as anger filled his body.

Daken stood next to Johnny, talking with him.

The bartender brought his drinks back, telling him his total. Peter clenched his jaw, watching as Daken leaned against the table, a mischievous grin across his face. The bartender repeated the total, waiting for Peter to respond. It wasn’t until Felicia reached over to touch Peter that he jerked his arm away and slammed two 20 dollar bills on the counter. He stepped away, beelining toward Johnny, abandoning their drinks at the bar.

“Hey!” Felicia called after him. Whatever they had planned tonight was going to be ruined.

Johnny’s eyes moved from Daken to Peter – almost just remembering what Peter had told him weeks ago. He would find a way to kill Daken.

“Hey!” Peter said, pulling Daken’s attention away from Johnny. “Seat’s taken.”

“We were just catching up,” Daken said, his tone soft and sweet, but felt stickily poisonous. “Old friends.”

“I think you’re done here,” Peter said, taking a step forward.

“We were –“

“You’re done here,” Peter interrupted Daken. “Or I’ll make you be done.”

“Oh,” Daken chuckled, turning to Johnny. “He’s a little intense.”

“You’re _not_ talking to him,” Peter grabbed Daken’s shoulder, pulling him to square him up, facing away from Johnny. “You’re talking to me.”

“Pete,” Johnny said softly. He knew exactly where this was going to go. If they wanted to spy on Fisk’s men, then they needed as little attention on them as possible. And a bar fight wouldn’t do that. Maybe he could pull Peter away from the situation, pull him away to the bar, at least. Out of Daken’s face. And maybe they’d both walk away with no injury. Johnny stood up from the table, walking past Daken to go to Peter’s side. Daken grabbed his arm, yanking him back to his side.

“Don’t _fucking_ touch him.” Peter grabbed Daken by his collar, pulling him away from Johnny and slammed him against the wall.

Daken chuckled, grinning. “I didn’t think I’d get to meet you outside your … _black suit_.”

Johnny felt a glass get shoved into his hand. Felicia puts her hand in the hook of Johnny’s arm, leading him to the front of the bar. “We gotta go, Pretty Boy,” she said, a little unnerving. “This is going to get ugly fast.”

“What about Peter?” Johnny tried to sneak his arm away from Felicia. She tightened her grip on his arm.

“He can handle himself,” She said. “You don’t need to watch this. Finish your drink.”

He tilted the drink back – realizing this was definitely Peter’s stronger drink – setting the glass on a table as they walked out of the bar. He gave one glance back over his shoulder, catching sight of Peter and Daken in the back of the bar before Felicia yanked him out of the bar and onto the sidewalk.

The last sight he saw was Peter taking a swing at Daken as Daken laughed.

Without meaning for it to happen, Daken got exactly what he wanted. The Spider-Man unmasked and vulnerable.

But Peter wasn’t going to let his vulnerability get the best of him. Johnny knew Peter. Johnny knew what Peter was capable of. Peter warned Johnny what would happen if he saw Daken again. Peter wasn’t vulnerable. He was anything but.

“I told you not to fucking touch him,” Peter said, pinning Daken against the wall. “I don’t care if we’re in public, I’m about to rip you apart.”

“I loved to see you try,” Daken grinned. “What’s Johnny going to think when he sees you again? Will he think you’re a monster?”

Peter slammed Daken’s head against the wall. Daken laughed.

“Not so scary out of the mask, huh?” Daken said, shoving back against Peter. “Can’t web me up, huh, Spider?”

Peter swung his fist at Daken. Daken grabbed his hand and shoved him back. Daken brought his fists up, unsheathing his claws and leaped at Peter. Peter barely dodged Daken. He grabbed a bar stool and brought it down against Daken’s back. Peter grabbed Daken by his shirt, throwing him against the wall. “How’d you find us?”

Daken pushed himself off the floor, laughing. “Fate.”

Peter tackled Daken, bringing him to the ground. He brought his fists down against Daken’s face, only stopping when he felt two sets of arms pull him off. Two of the employees held onto Peter, pulling him off of Daken. Clearly Fisk’s men. The police weren’t an option here. Not actual police officers, at least. If police were going to show you they were corrupted by the Kingpin. “Let me go,” Peter warned, testing their grip on his arms. He could break free. It wouldn’t take much.

“Thanks for the help,” Daken grinned, getting back on his feet. “I really needed it.”

Peter felt shivers run up his back.

Daken leaped, claws stretched out and aimed for him. He yanked his left arm, pulling Fisk’s guard in front of him, taking the brunt of the claws before Daken could realize it. He yanked his right arm free, bringing his fist into the man’s nose, knocking him back. He swung his leg, kicking the man back into the bar.

Peter turned his attention back to Daken. He grabbed Daken, pulling him from the guard and slammed him back into the wall. “I don’t believe in fate,” Peter said, slamming Daken’s head back into the wall. “Furthest from that.”

“I think it’s time you start,” Daken said, pushing back against Peter. Peter kept Daken pinned against the wall. “He tell you about me?” Daken grinned. “Tell you about how I _took_ care of him? How I _fucked_ —”

Peter threw Daken into a table across the bar. He laughed, pushing himself up.

“Is that all you got?”

“You know it’s not.” Peter lunged at Daken, shoving his fist into Daken’s gut. He brought his other first back up into Daken’s jaw, hearing a loud crack. Daken laughed.

“You really think you can kill me?” Daken’s eyes narrowed. He swung his arm, digging his elbow into Peter’s jaw, knocking him off of him. Daken ran the back of his hand underneath his nose, wiping off the blood from his face. “He loved it, you know.”

Peter clenched his jaw. The more Daken talked, the more Peter craved ripping the tongue from his mouth. He wanted nothing more than Daken to never taste Johnny’s name in his mouth, to never look in Johnny’s direction, to never breathe the same air as him.

Daken pushed off the ground, stood towering over Peter. He rolled his arm, attempting to put his shoulder back into place. “Every touch, every kiss, he loved it. Hell, he wanted it. He may be on your arms, but Johnny’s still —“

Peter grabbed a bottle of champagne from the table above him and broke the bottle. He lunged at Daken, digging the broken bottle into the shoulder. He felt Daken dig his claws into his sides. He pulled the bottle from Daken’s shoulder, shoving the broken glass into his throat. “Don’t you say his name,” Peter spat. He shoved the broken bottle further, feeling it pierce something. Daken grabbed at Peter’s wrists, attempting to pull him off. Peter smirked, finally finding a way to quiet Daken. He pulled the bottle to the side, ripping through his skin, leaving shards of glass in his throat as he attempted to slice his neck. Blood started to pour from his wounds. “He’s mine, don’t you ever think different.”

Daken’s grip on Peter’s wrist loosened as he lost consciousness. Peter pushed up, looking around the bar. Many of the patrons had fled. Most of the staff were hiding, realizing that even though they had the numbers, they were unsure what they were dealing with. Peter locked eyes with the bartender, hunched down at the bar, keeping an eye on Peter and Daken.

“I need a knife.”

“W-what?”

“Knife, now,” Peter said, taking a step toward the bar. He extended his hand. “It’s not for you. It’s for my friend.”

“I …”

“I’m doing you a favor,” Peter said. “Do you really want the wolverine knock off to wake back up for a fight. You gonna fight him?”

The bartender hesitated. Peter rolled his eyes. He reached over the counter, grabbing a knife and went back to Daken. He grabbed Daken’s hair, pulling his head back. His eyes fluttered, rolling back. Peter raised a the knife to Daken’s neck.

“Pete, wait —“

Peter looked up deer in a headlights. He knew Johnny and Felicia left, but he didn’t expect Johnny to come back. They both knew if he killed Daken, Daken would find his way back to breathing. But Peter never wanted Johnny to watch. Peter never wanted Johnny to see him like _this_. Ready for murder. No rage fueling his motives. He was ugly, evil, covered in blood.

He thought of Johnny, years ago at Oscorp. How he looked at Peter holding Otto Octavius’ dead body. Johnny’s gentle touch against Peter’s shoulder, pulling him away from his anger. Johnny searched Peter’s face for answers. Johnny looked almost empathetic.

Nothing like he did now.

Johnny looked scared. Afraid of Peter. Afraid of what he was about to do. Peter tightened his jaw, letting go of Daken. Everything they have worked for, everything they’ve built up over the past few weeks, Peter threw away for revenge. He should’ve left Daken alone, kept him away from Johnny and let him be. But he couldn’t. Daken kept talking and Peter couldn’t stop. He looked at Johnny, apologetically, knowing he had to let go.

“Johnny, you should —“

Johnny ran over to Peter, throwing his arms around him. Peter let go of the knife as Johnny’s body weight pushed him back from Daken’s body. Peter stood still, his hands raised flat, almost not wanting to touch Johnny. But that’s all Johnny did. Johnny brought his hands to cup Peter’s face, running his thumbs against Peter’s cheeks.

“I’m not leaving,” Johnny said, leaning in to kiss Peter. Peter finally succumbs to Johnny, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I’m not leaving you,” he repeated, out of breath. “I’m _never_ leaving you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not,” Johnny said, almost with a laugh. “We need to go. Now.”

Peter tightened his jaw and nodded. Johnny took his hand and pulled Peter to the back of the bar, to the emergency exit. Peter groaned, grabbing his side, pulling away blood from where Daken had stabbed him.

“You don’t make this easy, do you?” Johnny asked, wrapping Peter’s arm around his shoulder, helping him out the back door, into a hallway and through the emergency exit to the alleyway. Peter had a hard time reading Johnny. He was almost joking, laughing. They left Daken for dead, Peter wanting to slit Daken’s throat and Johnny’s laughing. Nothing seemed right.

As soon as they stepped outside, Johnny scooped Peter into his arms.

“Hey, what are you —“

Johnny flamed on, keeping his torso flame free as he pushed off the ground, carrying Peter to safety. Peter wrapped his arms around Johnny’s neck tightly. He felt himself lean back, laughing. Never would he thought he’d be the one carried in the skies of New York City. Johnny smiled, pressing a kiss against Peter’s cheek.

Johnny flew them through lower Manhattan, knowing that if the bar didn’t already call the police on them, they would’ve by now. Or would’ve alerted Fisk’s men to be on the lookout. He was surprised enough Peter got that far into Daken without someone trying to stop him.

“I’m sorry,” Peter spoke up, trying to apologize over the sound of Johnny’s flames.

“You’re not,” Johnny said. “You said you would do that. And you did. Don’t be sorry.”

“I’m not sorry about that,” Peter said. “I’m sorry you had to see.”

“I didn’t have to come back,” Johnny said, landing on the rooftop of their apartment building, setting Peter down carefully. “I wanted to.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“I wasn’t leaving you,” Johnny said. “I made that mistake last time. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

They climbed down the fire escape and into their apartment window. Johnny helped Peter sit on the kitchen counter, giving him a wet rag, then went to search for the first aid kit. Peter knew it was for the open wounds on his sides, to help clean them up, but he brought the rag to his face. Daken’s words running through his head. He remember the word forming on Daken’s tongue, the word that made his blood boil.

_‘He may be on your arms, but Johnny’s still mine.’_

God, if it wasn’t for Johnny in the other room and the blood he lost between the financial district and home, he’d go back and finish the job. Daken wouldn’t be able to come back from the dead if he was beheaded.

“Peter.”

Peter looked up at Johnny, the rag in his hands. Johnny stood there, looking at Peter with the same empathetic look he gave him years ago. Peter’s glance went to the blood on Johnny’s face. He didn’t remember touching Johnny’s face, but the streaks of red on his cheekbones said otherwise. Peter’s blood stained Johnny’s hands and his shirt, from carrying him across New York. Peter felt his heart sank. “I’m —“

“If you try to apologize again, I’ll let you bleed out.”

“And I’m the villain,” Peter laughed, leaning his head back against the cabinet. Johnny approached him, setting the first aid kit next to him on the counter. He took the rag from Peter’s hands and dabbed Peter’s forehead. He must have had a gash there from when Daken knocked him on the ground.

“You look worse in the light,” Johnny said softly.

“Worse than Kingpin?”

“No that was terrible,” Johnny laughed. He moved the rag and carefully pressed a bandage against Peter’s forehead “Compared to that? This is manageable.”

“Manageable,” Peter said, slowly working off his shirt. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called that.” Peter watched as Johnny throughly cleaned his wounds, his focus laser sharp. Peter watched his face, steady and calm. Peter wondered if Johnny realized he pursed his lips while he was focused. He looked so gentle and kind, as he cleaned his cuts. Peter felt the guilt well up in his gut. Guilt of bringing Johnny into a life like this. ”Why did you laugh?”

“Just now?”

“No,” Peter said. “Back at the bar, when we were leaving. You kept laughing.”

Johnny was silent, almost as if he knew the answer but didn’t want to say it out loud. “I think I enjoyed it,” he said, his voice quiet. “The adrenaline.”

The front door slammed opened and shut.

Johnny jumped. Peter closed his eyes, waiting for the lecture to come.

“I can’t believe you,” Felicia groaned.

“He came at me,” Peter said plainly. “It was self defense.”

“I hate you, you know that?” Felicia groaned, throwing her purse on the floor and collapsing on the couch. “An easy job! And you ruined it, Spider! Johnny, how do you put up with this?”

“He’s great in bed,” Johnny said, turning his attention back to Peter. He dabbed the wet rag against Peter’s cuts on his ribs. He was sure there was internal bleeding, but from what he learned about Peter’s powers, sleep would handle the brunt of it. “Makes it worth it.”

“Shut up,” Peter laughed.

“Don’t boast his ego, Johnny,” Felicia rolled her eyes. “If it gets any bigger, you’ll have to get a bigger apartment.” She sat up, peering over the edge of the couch at Peter. “By the way, I’m surprised they didn’t send Fisk’s guard dogs after you and Wolverine Jr.”

“They did,” Peter said, leaning his head back against the cabinet. “Daken killed one and I knocked the other out. Even if they sent two more guys, they were out numbered. They didn’t know who I was.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t,” Felicia said, leaning back into the couch. “They knew you had counterfeits.”

“What?” Peter shot up. Johnny’s hands instantly went to his side to hold him steady.

“Your twenties, dumbass.” Felicia rolled her eyes, bringing her index fingers to her temples, massaging gently. “They knew they were counterfeits.”

“How did you —“

“The bartender told the manager. _Giovanni_. Fisk runs the bar.”

“It’s a front,” Peter said. “We have to go back.”

Felicia sat up. “And get ourselves killed? They probably have your face posted everywhere already.”

“We will be fine,” he pushed off the counter, wincing as he landed. Johnny grabbed Peter, stabilizing him. “We can handle it —“

“You can barely stand!” Felicia shouted in frustration. “Tell him Johnny.”

“She’s right,” Johnny said. “Pete, you need to rest.”

Peter swore under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Pete, they’re going to figure out it’s you,” Johnny said, holding onto Peter’s hips. “If they know the twenties were counterfeits, who’s gonna say they aren’t going to connect the dots.”

“They could be any counterfeit bills —“

“He specifically said our bills,” Felicia added. “They knew they were Fisk’s. They had them marked a special way.”

“So all of Fisk’s men knew about the counterfeits?” Johnny asked, feeling Peter lean his body weight against him. “Are they trained to recognize them?”

“The bar staff are,” Peter said. “This must be one of their spots for laundering the money. Clean money in, dirty money out.”

“They keep the clean money in a separate drawer,” Felicia said. “They give change in the counterfeits.”

“Which means we need to go back,” Peter said, attempting to push off Johnny. “If we don’t go now, they’re going to clean out —“

“You’re not going out,” Johnny snapped. “You’re hurt. You’re going to stay in.”

Peter clenched his jaw. Felicia watched, her eyes glued on Peter. She’s pushed her boundaries before. She’s raised her voice at him, but she’s never gave orders. She knew better.

“They can’t be switching the clean and dirty money every day,” Johnny said. “There’s got to be a deposit night. We will worry about it tomorrow. You need your rest.”

“Okay,” Peter finally said in a huff. He leaned back onto the kitchen counter, using the counter and the wall to walk to the bedroom. Johnny followed him closely, his hand on his hip, keeping Peter stable. “We’re done for the night. But we’re going back. We’ll see you tomorrow, Cat.”

“You kicking me out?” She pouted. “I was hoping we could braid hair, make some popcorn, watch a movie.”

“That actually doesn’t sound too bad,” Johnny whispered to Peter. Peter jokingly shoved Johnny, letting his push linger as he worked to gain his balance back.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Peter reminded. He turned his attention to Felicia, loosely tugging Johnny towards the bedroom. “If you’re still here in the morning or find your way back here, we can do brunch.”

Felicia hummed. Peter led Johnny into the bedroom. “Johnny,” Felicia called, stopping the men in the doorway. “After you tuck the big bad Spider into bed, come back out. We can discuss brunch options.”

Johnny nodded, guiding Peter into the bedroom before he could question her request. He helped Peter out of his clothes, and helped him into bed. Peter sighed in relief at the comfort of the bed. He couldn’t careless about not being under the covers, or accidentally getting blood on the sheets. His body ached. Daken put up a hell of a fight when he tried. Peter closed his eyes and sighed, feeling a rush of tiredness overcome him.

“I still miss your bed,” Peter mumbled. “A slice of heaven.”

“I kind of miss it, too,” Johnny said, sitting down on the bed next to Peter. He brushed Peter’s hair back out of his face. “I kind of miss the Baxter Building. But I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

“Bandaging me every time I get a scrape?”

“I hardly call that a scrape,” Johnny said. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. He stood up. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back in here soon.”

Peter grabbed Johnny’s hand, keeping him close to the bed. “Johnny?”

“Yeah, Pete?”

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Of course not,” Johnny said, squeezing Peter’s hand. “Are you asking because of tonight?”

“You looked scared, when you came back,” Peter said. “When I had the knife to Daken’s throat.”

“Peter,” he said, bringing Peter’s knuckles to his lips. “I was afraid I was going to lose you again. Nothing is keeping me away from you. Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”

Johnny pressed a final kiss against Peter’s temple, letting go of his hand. He turned off the light and pulled the door shut, turning to Felicia — getting a face full of fabric. He pulled the fabric off his face, looking at his suit in his hands. He looked up at Felicia, who had already changed into her suit.

“Get changed.”

“What?”

“We’re going back,” she said. “Without him.”

“Going back?” Johnny said, stepping towards her. “Are you crazy?”

“Lower your voice,” she snapped at him. “It’s just for surveillance. He won’t know.”

“He’ll figure it out.”

“He’ll _get over_ it,” she correct Johnny. “He’ll forgive you.”

“But he won’t forgive you?”

“He’ll get over it,” she repeated. “Come on, we don’t have all night.”

Johnny tightened his jaw, holding the suit tight in his hand. It felt wrong to go and leave Peter behind when Peter was nearly fighting out of Johnny’s grip to go back out.

“He will be fine,” Felicia said. “It’s a stakeout. We won’t even be in the building. Just need to see how many cars leave the bar. No harm, no foul.”

“Okay,” Johnny gave in. If they find out more information, the better off they will be when it’s time to steal the money. He went into the bathroom and changed. When he came back out, Felicia was sitting on the window sill, admiring her manicure. She looked up at him, and smirked.

“I love the outfit,” she complimented. “Very villainous. You pick it out yourself or did the Spider help?”

“The Avengers, actually.”

“Ironic, I love it,” she smiled, pushing the window up. She climbed out of the window and onto the fire escape. She stretched, leaning back over the window sill and looked at Johnny, who seemed stuck in place. “You coming, Pretty Boy?”

Johnny pressed his lips together, nodding and walked over to the window and climbed out. Felicia smiled, pressing her hand against the flame on his chest, hummed as she brought her hand to his jaw. He tightened his jaw. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, we got a bite,” she smiled, playfully smacking his cheek. “Picked that up from Spider, didn’t we?” She stepped away from him, pulling her grappling hook and aimed it at an adjacent building. “Race ya.”

She took off before he could even suggest that this all was a bad idea. He huffed, looking back inside. He could sneak back in, take off his suit, and crawl into bed next to Peter. Peter wouldn’t know what he was about to do.

Johnny pulled the window down and jumped off the fire escape, flaming on. He took off after Felicia, quickly catching up. She laughed, picking up her speed, taking Johnny on a chase through the lower Manhattan back to the financial district.

Felicia landed on a rooftop gracefully. Johnny pulled himself to a stop, dropping down on the roof. He walked over to her, crouching over the edge.

“That’s the back of the bar,” she said, pointing to the door that Johnny and Peter left from earlier. “I’m going to go to the front and see what the damage is. You got it handled back here?”

“What? Staring at a door until someone comes out?” Johnny asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I got it handled.”

“Funny and cute,” Felicia said, standing up. “I’ll see you in a bit, Torch.”

She took off, hoping from rooftop to rooftop, landing on the building across the street from the bar, watching the front. She gave a cheeky wave to Johnny. Johnny halfassed waved back. He wasn’t too sure what to think of Felicia. She was carefree, enjoying her crimes as if they were a game. Maybe it was to her. Nothing more than a prize to be won. They left with hardly any information, and Felicia wanted more. He almost didn’t believe that it could be just a stakeout if she wasn’t going to be leaving with something tangible.

Voices in the alleyway below caught Johnny’s attention. He leaned over the edge, listening to the men on the ground.

“Just toss him in there,” one said to the two others, carrying something — someone — rolled up. Johnny clenched his jaw. Must be Daken. They lifted him up, throwing him in the dumpster. The first man sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair. “Now, I’m gonna have to pay off the trash men again. Who’s fault is this?! Who let this happen?!”

The two other men stayed quiet.

“I asked a question,” the first said, stepping towards the others. Johnny figured this must be Giovanni. “We had one of our men killed by a fucking mutant at one of the easiest business that the Kingpin runs. Who fucking let this happen?”

“I don’t think anyone could’ve stopped it —“

“He served the man,” the other staff said, pointing to the bartender. “The one that the mutant attacked.”

“The one that gave me the counterfeits,” the bartender said. “Our counterfeits.”

“We need to continue this inside,” the manager hushed, grabbing the bartender’s arm and pulled him in. “Kingpin’s ain’t going to be happy about this.”

The second staff followed them both back inside. Johnny looked up to Felicia, who seemed to disappear from her post. Johnny pressed his lips together. He should stay up here. Out of harm’s way, and watch for vehicles like Felicia said. Instead, he pushed his palms against the ledge of the building, hoping over it. He pulsed his flames to land quietly, opening up the back door and snuck in. He wished he had powers like Peter, being able to stick on ceilings and stay out of sight. Instead, he pressed himself up against the wall, working to stick to the shadows as he followed the voices of Giovanni and the bartenders.

“We lost money tonight,” Giovanni’s voice travelled through the hall, Johnny followed behind quietly. “We had to close hours early because of your lil’ slip up.”

“You expected _me_ to stop ‘em?” The bartender asked. “Frankie and Vinny couldn’t even stop ‘em. How you expect me to?”

“I expect you to stop trouble before it happens,” Giovanni snapped. “I shouldn’t have to babysit you. You saw he had the counterfeits, you should’ve stopped him then.”

“He pulled Frankie into that mutant’s claws,” the bartender snapped. “He moved him like he weighed nothin’! You think I could’ve stopped —“

A metal slam pulled Johnny to a stop.

“I don’t fuckin’ care!” Giovanni shouted. Another slam to metal rung through the hallway. Giovanni must have the bartender up against a door, Johnny figured. “We’re gonna be a few thousand short because of him. Do you want to explain to the Kingpin that you let some guy murder one of our own and the fucking mutant in his bar?”

Silence echoed through the hallway. Johnny wondered if they moved forward and he missed it.

“You’re gonna stay and clean up tonight,” Giovanni snapped. “Get that blood off my floor. You’re working a double tomorrow, no pay, and if we don’t have the money by Wednesday, you’re making up the difference when we deposit the money. I ain’t shortin’ the Kingpin. You got it?”

“Yes sir.”

Johnny turned around to leave. He got the information he needed. Someone grabbed him, slamming him against the wall. Johnny let out a soft gasp as his head hit the wall.

“Who do we got here?” The second bartender smirked.

“Let me go,” Johnny said. “I’m warning you.”

“Where’s the Spider?” Johnny froze. The bartender laughed. “Hit a chord there, didn’t I? Gio! Come here!”

“Last chance,” Johnny warned.

“You think you scare me?” The bartender teased. He slammed Johnny back against the wall. “You’re not a threat —“

Johnny grabbed onto the man’s forearm, flaming on. The man screamed, letting go of Johnny. Johnny brought his hand to the man’s shirt, pushing up against the opposite wall. “Am I a threat now?”

“Hey!”

Johnny turned his head, catching sight of Giovanni and the first bartender, both with guns aimed at Johnny.

“Let him go,” Giovanni commanded. Johnny tightened his jaw. He knew he made a mistake, but he wasn’t going to admit it. He threw the man onto the ground at their feet. “Where is he?”

“Who?”

“The Spider.”

“Around,” Johnny lied. “What makes you think he’s working with me?”

“Heard you two had a great time at another spot in town,” Giovanni said. “I figured you two were joint at the hips, from the stories I’ve heard. You wanna flame off?”

“I think I’ll pass,” Johnny said, stepping back. “I think I’ll take off before it gets nasty for the both of you.”

“You gonna sick the Spider on us?” Giovanni grinned.

“Gio,” the first bartender spoke up. “That’s him. He was at the bar with the other man.”

Giovanni’s eyes lit up. “No wonder he had counterfeits. Go look at security and get the tapes from tonight. I’ll handle our guest.”

The bartender took off running back down the hall. Giovanni took a shot at Johnny, barely missing Johnny. He shot fireballs at Giovanni, stepping toward him with every shot, making it nearly impossible to shoot the gun safely. When he got closer he pushed off the ground, tackling Giovanni. He pulled the gun from his hand, sliding it far behind them. Johnny, still flamed on, punched Giovanni’s jaw, hearing a loud crack. He gave another punch for good measure and took off for the bartender.

Once he caught up, he found the bartender in an office at the computer. He aimed his gun up at Johnny. Johnny smirked, putting his hands in the air half-heartedly. “You got me,” Johnny said. “You put the gun down, step away from the computer and let’s handle this, okay?”

The bartender stood still, his gun aimed at Johnny shakily.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Johnny said. “Put the gun down.”

“I thought you were a good guy,” the bartender said. “A hero. Weren’t you on the Avengers?”

Johnny pressed his lips together. Johnny regretted not having a secret identity, or finding a way to create one. He was going to get recognized and compared to his past. No matter what he did to change the future, he will always be compared to the scared teenager who followed his family into space.

“My kid looked up to you,” the bartender said. “He’s five, blonde hair, blue eyed like his momma. Like _you_. He loved you, man. Looked up to you.”

Without thinking, Johnny flamed off. “I’m —“

The gun went off.

Everything was a blur. The pain that seared through his body. The blood between his fingers as he pressed his hand against his shoulder. The sight of the Black Cat dropping from the ceiling and knocking out the bartender. Her voice was muffled as she grabbed him, helping him out of the office. He was sure she called him names. He pulled against her with what little strength he had.

“The cameras,” he muttered. “They know.”

She clenched her teeth before bringing him back in the office and quickly going through the computer. She searched through the files before finding the security software. She glanced up at Johnny and said something.

“I can’t — I can’t hear you,” he mumbled.

She swore. Johnny could see that. He pressed his head against the wall, wanting to close his eyes and giving in.

Felicia must have figured out how to wipe the camera footage as she pulled the plug on the computer and knocked the tower to the ground, stomping on it for good measure. She grabbed anything she could from the desk and shoving it into Johnny’s arms. Johnny felt her press her lips to his ear, barely hearing her words over the endless ringing that echoed through his head. “You’re going to be okay.”

Johnny nodded, feeling her take his weight and help him up and to the doorway. She looked back at the bartender on the ground and swore under her breath.

“Hold on,” she mouthed, helping him lean against the wall. She walked over to the man, picked up the gun. She looked at Johnny then turned her attention back at the man, pulling the trigger.

Johnny closed his eyes, pressing his lips together. He knew she had to. If she didn’t — Peter would.

He felt her take his arm from the doorway and put it around her shoulder. Johnny swore he heard Felicia’s voice. “Come on, honey, stay with me.”

Johnny was in and out of consciousness across New York City.

He’s not quite sure how Felicia even carried him back. But sure enough, they landed on the fire escape outside the apartment. Felicia leaned Johnny against the wall as she pushed the window up.

“Peter!” She called, carefully helping Johnny through the window. Johnny groaned as his feet touched the ground. She wrapped her arms around him, stabilizing him. She shouted again. “Peter!”

“What do you want, Fel?” Peter walked out of the bedroom, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looked up, finally catching the sight in front of him. Felicia, terrified out of her mind, holding onto a barely conscious Johnny, blood seeping from his uniform. He rushed over, taking a hold of Johnny. “What the hell happened?”

“We went back,” Felicia explained, stepping back. “To the bar.”

“You what?” Peter snapped, carrying Johnny over to the couch to lie down.

“We were just there for surveillance,” she said, putting her hands up defensively. “We were on rooftops. We were hidden.”

“Not well enough,” Peter said, stepping into the bathroom grabbing the first aid kit. “How did this happen?”

“Peter, he needs to go to —“

“How did this happen?” Peter repeated in a voice deep enough to send shivers down Felicia’s spine. She knew she on thin ice.

“I don’t know,” Felicia said softly. “I left him and —“

“Get out,” he snapped.

“Spider —“

“Get out before I kill you, Cat.”

Felicia stepped back, away from Peter and Johnny. Peter’s tone begged her to try him. She knew he was serious. Johnny was seriously hurt, and if she didn’t convince him to leave, they wouldn’t have been in this situation. She looked at Johnny and mouthed “I’m sorry,” and left through the window, before Peter could stay true to his word. Peter kneeled next to Johnny. He held cotton pads against Johnny’s shoulder, gently putting pressure against the wound to stop the bleeding.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Johnny mumbled.

“She brought you there,” Peter said. “She left you alone. It’s her fault.”

“I went in,” Johnny said. “On my own terms.”

“You need to stop talking,” Peter said, gently lifting the cotton pads of his shoulder, taking a peek at his wound. “Hold this.”

Johnny reached up with his good arm and held the bandage as Peter dug through the first aid kit. “I flamed off,” Johnny said, leaning back against the pillow. “I flamed off and he shot me.”

“Not what I would’ve done,” Peter said, laying out items on the coffee table. He reached over and pulled an ottoman nearby, sitting on it. “I’m gonna remove the bullet. Okay?”

Johnny nodded. He removed his hand, letting Peter take over. “I’m guessing you done this before?”

“On myself a few times,” Peter said. He dug into Johnny’s shoulder with surgical tweezers, pulling a gasp from Johnny.

“Are we still getting brunch with Fel tomorrow?” Johnny groaned, trying to joke. Peter pulled out the bullet, setting it aside.

“She’s lucky she’s not dead tonight,” Peter said, returning to clean the wound. Johnny sucked his breath. “Hold on, Pretty Boy, almost done.”

“She killed him,” Johnny said. “The bartender. He shot me.”

“Good for her,” Peter said unenthusiastically, moving the cotton away. He picked up his thread and needle and began to stitch Johnny back together. “You need to be careful.”

“I know,” Johnny said, turning to look at Peter. For the first time since Johnny has known Peter, he saw him cry. He saw the tears welled up in his eyes as he focused on stitching Johnny up. With his good hand, he reached up and touched Peter’s cheek. “Peter.”

“I can’t lose you, Johnny,” Peter said softly. “You’re all that matters to me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Johnny said. “I’ll do better.”

“ _I’ll_ do better,” Peter said. “I’m going to protect you, Pretty Boy. Nothing like this will happen again.”

Peter leaned over and kissed Johnny’s forehead, pushing his hair back from his face. He finished stitching Johnny up, cutting the thread and bandaging him back up.

“We’re gonna get some sleep,” Peter said. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“And Fel?”

Peter tightened his jaw, almost as if he was trying to forget her. “Tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll talk with her tomorrow.”

* * *

Johnny looked in the mirror, admiring his new suit. Peter took the liberty of redesigning his suit for him, while he healed from the gunshot wound. He kept it a secret from Johnny, only telling him the bare minimum. Johnny was pleasantly surprised when he woke up one morning finding Felicia in the apartment, looking over Peter’s shoulder as she helped him with the design. She gave him a cheeky smile, promising him that he’d get to see it before fashion week.

It was similar in design to the Avengers suit. The golden yellow paneling was much darker than the original. The once bright yellow flame was now black, outlined in gold. Peter told him as much as he loved Johnny’s bright yellow panels, he was afraid that it would be too easily spotted in the dark. The material was thicker, less likely to rip or be cut. Peter had took his Fantastic Four suit, studying the material and, through trial and error, Peter recreated the unstable molecules to handle Johnny’s heat. He griped that the Avengers didn’t recreate the molecules as well as he did, or else the bullet wouldn’t had pierced his skin. Johnny did note that Peter put a little extra padding in his suit, he assumed a layer of padded Kelvar, but he wasn’t going to bring it up to Peter.

Felicia helped created the grip on his gloves and boots, using a similar technique to hers. He may not be able to scale as quickly as Peter’s natural ability or as smoothly as Felicia, but it would help him hide in plain sight.

Peter had offered to create a mask. It wouldn’t completely conceal his identity, as far too many are familiar with Johnny Storm, but it would help in future endeavors if they found a way to wipe Johnny from the public eye. They could create a second identity for Johnny, Peter suggested, pretend he was a copycat and that Johnny Storm had no connection to the Spider.

“I don’t want the mask.”

“Really?”

“I want them to know I’m not someone to mess with,” Johnny said. “That they should fear me.”

“Oh, that’s hot,” Peter muttered, more to himself than anything. “What happened to that nice boy I was dating?”

“He got shot.”

Peter’s joking expression dropped. “Never again, I promise.”

Johnny ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it back as he looked in his reflection. He looked different. He wasn’t sure how, he wasn’t taller or gained weight. Nothing physically has changed, but he almost didn’t recognize himself. As if he was a different person looking back at him.

Peter knocked on the door frame, pulling Johnny’s attention away from the mirror. Peter wore his normal black suit, his mask in his hand. “You doing okay, Pretty Boy?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said, nodding. He looked back to the mirror. “Just admiring your handiwork.”

Peter smiled and walked over to Johnny, wrapping his hands around his waist. Peter hummed, pressing a kiss against Johnny’s neck. Johnny extended his neck, leaning against Peter. “You’re beautiful, Johnny,” he punctuated his sentence with a kiss. “Absolutely stunning.”

Johnny turned around in Peter’s arms, catching his lips with his own.

“Are you two almost done?” Felicia called from the living room. “I’d like to do this today.”

Peter rolled his eyes, pressing one last quick kiss against Johnny’s lips before he pulled him out of the bathroom. The kitchen table was covered in their plans. Most old documents that Peter had gone through and highlighted information that he thought was important. Then there was the stuff that Felicia stole from the office at the bar. Several pink slip pay stubs, a little black book full of running payments, a bank deposit bag half full, and a bunch of random notes. Felicia had figured out that the bar staff were all paid under the table, they were Fisk employees earning a “bonus” while working at the bar. Payments came straight out of the money earned from that night. The most important piece of information was in the torn pieces of paper. An address in Harlem. Peter didn’t make much sense of it at first, blowing it off until Johnny asked where Fisk’s main office of operations was for Atlas Project.

Peter’s eyes light up. He flipped through his Atlas Project folder, finding the address.

The clean deposits were dropped off in a building directly to the west of the Atlas Project Headquarters.

Deposits were dropped off on Wednesday nights, as Johnny found out through Giovanni. To get the most out of this, they needed to go as soon as the last Kingpin thug leaves and before the neighborhood wakes up.

Peter wondered what kind of front Kingpin had next to his housing development. A homeless shelter? An orphanage? A food bank?

Peter could’ve laughed when he saw it was a condemned building, owned by Fisk’s real estate.

They snuck in through a window of the abandoned building, quickly assessing their surroundings. From what they could see, there were no security cameras set up the top floor. The building was empty, minus abandoned office furniture -- desks, chairs, powered down computers. Peter came over and checked the computer, checking the power source and the cables. Dead.

“Check for entrances,” Peter informed Felicia. “There has to be a way to get into Headquarters without using the street entrances.” He turned to Johnny. “You and I will search this building. Floor to floor, in case here’s something we’re missing. Got it?”

“Got it,” Felicia said, snuck back out the window.

Peter led Johnny out of the room and down the flight of stairs. Peter entered through the door, promptly searching the room. Johnny stopped at door, hesitating to follow. Peter looked up at Johnny. “You good, Pretty Boy?”

“I’m going to the next floor.”

“What?” Peter said, stepping back towards Johnny. “No you’re not.”

“We will cover ground quicker if we split up,” Johnny said. “You know that.”

“You know what happened the last time someone left you alone,” Peter said, wrinkling his brow. “I’m not leaving you –“

“Spider,” Johnny said, sternly. Peter almost looked taken back by his tone. “I can handle myself.”

Peter pressed his lips together. He nodded, taking a step back. “Okay. I’ll be down shortly.”

Johnny nodded, continuing down the stairwell, stopping at the next floor. He opened the door slowly to find a scene similar to the floors above. A nearly empty room with abandoned furniture. Start back, work forward, he told himself. He looked on the desks as he passed them. He wondered about the people that worked here, if they were good people or if they belonged to Fisk.

He stopped at the back desk, picking up a broken picture frame. It was of a family – two parents with two small children on their hips. All smiling. Johnny’s breath stopped in his throat as he could see Sue and Reed with the kids. He exhaled slowly, putting the picture frame face down on the desk. He moved the abandoned paperwork around, invoices for paper companies, office supplies and utilities. He opened the drawer, digging around for anything that might help him. He dug through the files, finding more invoices separated by hanging files. This was nothing more than an accountant doing simple work. Nothing under Wilson Fisk’s name.

“Johnny!”

Johnny swore under his breath. He wasn’t expecting to hear Ben. Not here. Not now. He turned around, pushing the desk drawer back into place. Surprised not only to see Ben, but Bobby was with him too. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to stop you,” Ben said, taking a step forward. “Johnny, this ain’t you.”

“Ben —“

“Just listen, Matchstick,” Ben said. “We came to get you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Johnny said. “I’m fine here.”

“You’re not listenin’—“

“We came to save you,” Bobby stepped in.

“Save me?” Johnny laughed. “From what?”

“From _him_ ,” Bobby said. “From the road you’re going down.”

“I don’t need saved,” Johnny said. “I wish you’d understand that.”

“I wish you got it through your thick skull that this ain’t an option,” Ben said, approaching Johnny. Johnny stood his ground, feeling his flames flicker underneath his skin.

“Ben —“ Bobby tried stopping him. Ben pushed past him.

“You’re gonna come home with us,” Ben said. “We’re gonna work things out. And we’re gonna bring Sue and Reed and the kids home.”

Johnny clenched his jaw. He hated how any time Ben wanted him to do something, he’d throw Sue under the bus. “The Avengers still want me.”

“I’ve talked to them,” Bobby said. “They said they could work things out with you. _If_ you stop working with _him_.”

“If you _leave_ him,” Ben corrected. “And move back to the Baxter Building.”

Johnny laughed. “And be alone again?”

“You won’t be alone,” Bobby said. “You have me. And Ben will move back, right Ben?”

“Johnny, this ain’t a choice,” Ben said. “You’re coming home.”

“I’m _not_ going,” Johnny snapped. Ben stepped forward. “Don’t you dare come close to me. I’m warning you.”

“Johnny, look at you,” Bobby said. “You’re robbing the Harlem Housing Project. Just come with us and we can work through this.”

“You don’t get it,” Johnny said. “You’re not seeing the full picture.”

“Bobby, I told you talkin’ ain’t gonna work,” Ben said. “We can talk at home —“

Johnny flamed on, blasting his fire forward. Bobby quickly iced up, bringing a wall between Johnny and Ben. The front edge of the ice wall was quickly melting against Johnny’s heat.

“Johnny, stop!” Bobby called over the roar of the flames. “We’re not here to fight you!”

“Then what are you here for?” Johnny yelled back. He’s flames burned bright and hot, working away the ice wall. Bobby put up a new layer between them.

“To take you home,” Ben said. “Let’s go!”

“I’m not leaving him without a fight,” Johnny said. “You know that!”

“Johnny!” Johnny turned to look at Peter, standing at the doorway. He could see the tension in his shoulders. Johnny started to cool down as Peter approached him, before remembering the last time he flamed off during a fight. His eyes glowed white as he burned hotter, blasting fire through the ice wall. Chunks of ice fell. Ben covered his head, as if the ice could even penetrate his thick skin. Peter’s attention moved from Johnny to Ben, then to Bobby and back to Ben. “What are you doing here?”

“Bringing my brother home,” Ben said, standing up and standing guard. “You’re no good for him. Look what you got him doin’!”

“I made this choice, Ben.”

“Hear that?” Peter said, approaching the group. “ _He_ made the choice.”

“It wouldn’t have been a choice if it wasn’t for you,” Ben snapped. “You took him away —“

“You pushed him out!” Peter snapped back.

“He’s my family —“

“Then you should’ve took care of him!” Peter said. “If you didn’t push him away then he wouldn’t have came back to me!”

“You ruined our family when you first came into his life,” Ben shouted. “If you would’ve stuck to killin’ Stacys —“

Before Johnny knew what was even happening, Peter lunged at Ben, knocking him to the ground. Ben was almost surprised at how easily the Spider-Man knocked him down. He shouldn’t have been. The Spider-Man has gone toe to toe with the Rhino. He has single handed LG stopped the A-train, allegedly.

He was able to pull Johnny away from his family.

The Spider-Man was a force to be reckoned with.

Peter threw punches against the Thing, webbing his arms down to make it easier to punch without push back. He brought his fists down against Ben’s face. Johnny couldn’t help but to think back to Otto Octavius, and how Peter beat him senseless in the same way. How a simple touch to his shoulder, stopped Peter in his swing. “Spider,” he said softly. Peter brought his fist down against Ben. Johnny stepped forward.

“Johnny,” Bobby said reaching for him. Johnny pulled from his grip, approaching Peter and Ben.

“Spider,” Johnny said, a little bit louder. He grabbed Peter’s hand in the back reach. Peter stopped, looking back at Johnny. He pressed his lips together, before nodding gently. He started to get off of Ben when shivers ran down his back.

Peter pushed Johnny back.

Ben pulled his arm from the webs, swinging and knocking he Spider-Man into the wall.

“Spider!” Johnny called.

Ben glanced over at Johnny, a quick glance of anger, returning his focus back to the Spider-Man. “If it wasn’t for him,” Ben brought his fist across Peter’s face. “You’d still be a hero!” He brought his arms over his head, bringing them down on Peter’s chest. “You’d still be good!”

Johnny yelled for Ben to stop. He ran over to him, grabbing Ben’s arm and attempted to pull him away from Peter. Ben swung his arm, throwing Johnny back. Johnny landed on his side, groaning. Bobby ran to Johnny’s side to check on him. Peter tried to get up, hearing Johnny.

“If he’s gone,” Ben said, smacking the Spider-Man back down. “You can come home.” He brought his fists across Peter’s face. “You can still be a hero.” He swung again. “Suzie can still be proud of you.”

Anger washed over Johnny’s body, hot like molten lava. He pushed himself off the ground.

“Johnny —“ Bobby placed a cold hand against Johnny’s arm, letting go instantly with a yelp. Bobby’s never felt Johnny’s high heat. He’s never felt hurt by Johnny’s flames. His ice has always protected him against Johnny. But now, he looks at his palm, melting from Johnny’s heat.

Johnny lunged at Ben, slipping between him and Peter, flaming on. He burned and burned, knowing he could never get hot enough to burn Bobby. He felt his frustration build up inside of him. It felt overwhelming at first, before quickly centering in his chest. The yellow paneling on his suit glowed, the flame in the center went white. He let go, burning supernova in between Ben and Peter, using the flame on his suit to direct his path.

Ben yelled, quickly covering his face from the blast. He stepped back, away from Johnny. Johnny kept burning, letting his anger go. He was letting go of Ben. Letting go of the Baxter Building. Letting go of the Avengers, being a hero, being someone he wasn’t. He was letting go of his past, burning for a new future.

“Johnny!” Bobby shouted over the flames. He quickly filled the room with ice, fighting Johnny’s heat, hoping that he could get enough to cool him down. He put up another wall of ice between Ben and Johnny, just enough time for Ben to back up. His arms and shoulders were scorched from the flames, aching as if his flesh was burnt. Ben couldn’t remember the last time he felt pain like this. Johnny burnt down the ice wall, directing his blast towards Bobby.

Bobby brought his forearms up, quickly creating a shield of ice in front of him. The shield couldn’t stand the white hot heat of Johnny’s flames. It melted in front of Bobby, letting the fire get to him. He screamed as the fire burned against his arms, steam filled the room.

“Johnny —“ Peter leaned forward pressing his palm against Johnny’s back, reaching through the flames. He knew adding the unstable molecules to his own suit would come in handy after all the times he’s came close to Johnny’s fire, but he didn’t think it would tonight. He brought his hand to Johnny’s shoulder, squeezing tight trying to ground Johnny. “Johnny, stop! Stop!”

Johnny flamed off, his attention focused on Ben. Peter ran his hand down Johnny’s arm, stopping at his wrist.

“Johnny,” Peter said. “Let them go.”

The steam slowly dispersed through the room. Bobby exhaled slowly, letting out a breath of cold white smoke, as he focused on regenerating the ice lost from his forearms. He looked up at Johnny, almost horrified of what he did.

“I’m not leaving without you, Matchstick,” Ben reminded. “You’re my brother —“

“My brother’s dead,” Johnny snapped. His blue eyes burnt white. “My brother died months ago, when he abandoned me in our home. I don’t know who _you_ are. You’re not him. You haven’t _been_ him.”

“Johnny —“

“Leave!” Johnny shouted. “Get out!”

Ben clenched his jaw.

“Ben,” Bobby said, putting his hand on Ben’s arm. His own arms were still reforming, the new ice was shiny and clear, unlike the older ice that held a light blue tinge. “He’s not coming.”

Ben was silent, his attention focused on Johnny. He thought about the last time he saw Johnny happy, with Valeria on his hips and Franklin wrapped around his leg, and a laugh on his lips. A completely different person from the Johnny before him. The anger in his body burned hot. His body was tight with tension, as if he was ready to burst again.

This wasn’t the Johnny he knew.

Maybe the Spider-Man was right. Ben pushed him away, and Johnny was alone and vulnerable. Just what the Spider-Man was looking for. A small part of him hoped that everything Johnny has claimed about the Spider-Man was true. That he cared about him. That he saved him. That he truly _loved_ him. As frustrated as he was, he only wanted Johnny to be happy and safe … but a feeling deep in his gut says that could never be possible on the arms of the Spider-Man. He didn’t want Johnny to find out the hard way and come home to the Baxter Building with a broken heart.

Or to come home in a body bag.

“Don’t think I’m gonna forget about you, Johnny,” Ben said. “You’re always welcome home, okay?”

Johnny clenched his jaw, not stepping down.

Ben nodded, almost letting out a sad laugh. “Don’t get hurt Johnny.” Ben took a step back, almost hopping Johnny would change his mind. As soon as he realized it wasn’t going to happen, his scowl returned to his face and he turned around. “Come on, Bobby, the Human Torch doesn’t need us.”

Ben walked out of the room. Bobby gave one final look back at Johnny, a look that begged Johnny to change his mind. To come home with them. Johnny remembered that same look the night Peter entered back into his life. The night that Johnny ditched Bobby for Daken for the last time. Him begging him, ‘don’t make this mistake again.’

But Peter was not a mistake.

Bobby blew out a white puff a smoke, sighing. “Bye Johnny.”

Johnny knew that Bobby walking away from him was Bobby walking away from his life.

Johnny collapsed to his knees as the tension left his body. His body shook as the anger was replaced with sorrow.

“Johnny!” Peter kneeled down in front of Johnny, running his hands up and down Johnny’s arms. Johnny turned his head away from Peter. “Johnny, look at me,” Peter took Johnny’s chin, gently leading him to look at him directly. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not going to be okay,” Johnny said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I hurt them. I —“

“They angered you,” Peter said. “You warned them and they didn’t listen.” Peter reached up brushing a loose strand of hair out of Johnny’s face. “Johnny, you showed them that you’re not someone to mess with.”

“I burned Ben,” Johnny said, letting out a breathy laugh. He, of all people, finally was able to hurt his brother. “I hurt Bobby.”

“Johnny,” Peter pulled up his mask to look at him, eye to eye. Johnny washed over Peter’s face, from the red bruise on his cheekbone to the small cuts above his eye. His lip was split, blood already drying. “You were defending yourself.”

“I was defending you,” Johnny said, a little more sober. “He was — he was going to kill you.”

“I know,” Peter said, running his thumb across Johnny’s cheek, catching a tear Johnny didn’t know he had. “If I can’t be with you, I’d rather be dead.”

“You think I’d come this far fighting for you to leave?” Johnny asked with almost a laugh. He leaned forward, stealing a kiss from Peter. Peter always tasted like stale coffee, and Johnny’s kissed Peter enough after fights to get used to the taste of faint blood. But something about this kiss felt relieving. Felt emancipating.

Felt like he never wanted to go back to a world without Peter.

“Come on,” Johnny said, pulling Peter’s mask down gently. He took his hand and interlocked their fingers. He pulled on his arm lightly to lead him out of the room. “We gotta go find Felicia before she leaves without us.”

Peter pressed his lips together and nodded. He thought of Johnny moments ago, burning out of anger. Terrifying to see from behind as he burned his best friend — as he burned his own brother — just to protect Peter.

Maybe Ben Grimm was right.

Maybe Peter did ruin Johnny.

A strong, caring hero, now a powerful, self-serving villain. Johnny may still be good, but he’s more interested in protecting what he loves. Peter’s ethics were always questionable, but he’s never had someone interested in killing to protect him. He chuckled to himself. He kind of liked it. A year ago, he couldn’t imagine himself being here, with Johnny, attempting to rob the Kingpin. He would’ve laughed at the idea that Johnny would’ve came back to him and would’ve committed a crime to stay with him. He couldn’t imagine Johnny even enjoying stealing a champagne bottle.

And yet, here they were.

Peter grabbed Johnny by the hips, stopping him in the doorway. He rolled his mask up to his nose, leaning in to steal a kiss from Johnny. “I love you, Johnny Storm.”

Johnny pressing his lips against Peter’s ear. “I love you, Peter Parker.”

Peter grinned, pulling his mask down and grabbed Johnny’s hand, pulling him down the hall and into a new life.

* * *

_And I don't want to wait until the sunshine fades and bury our love in a shallow grave._  
_'Cause the world could be cruel to us or we could live for the dangerous,_  
_so let's start a riot. Hard to sit still when your head's on fire._  
_'Cause I'm a supernova and you're my four leaf clover._


End file.
